


Shards of Fate

by RaeScribbles



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Biting, Claiming, Cock Warming, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut, Stalking, Territorial Behavior, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeScribbles/pseuds/RaeScribbles
Summary: A collection of one-shots, short series and smut with my altered version of FGO's female MC.(Nickname changed + colouring swapped to male version)* More tags will be added as I post.* Smut will be marked (**) with tags for your convenience.
Relationships: Cú Chulainn Alter | Berserker/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Cú Chulainn Alter | Berserker/Reader, Cú Chulainn | Lancer (Fate/Prototype)/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Cú Chulainn | Lancer (Fate/Prototype)/Reader, Cú Chulainn | Lancer/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Cú Chulainn | Lancer/Reader, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne | Saber/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne | Saber/Reader, Edmond Dantès | Avenger/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Edmond Dantès | Avenger/Reader, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Gilgamesh | Archer, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Gilgamesh | Caster, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Heroic Spirit EMIYA | Archer, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Ozymandias | Rider, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Solomon | Caster, Gilgamesh | Archer/Reader, Gilgamesh | Caster/Reader, Heroic Spirit EMIYA | Archer/Reader, Ozymandias | Rider/Reader, Romani Archaman/Fujimaru Ritsuka, Romani Archaman/Reader, Solomon | Caster/Reader
Comments: 138
Kudos: 242





	1. The King's Bed (Archer Gil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's had trouble sleeping, and Gilgamesh comes up with a very unexpected solution.

* * *

As the weeks passed, Eris was marginally more successful with summons, and a few more Servants joined the ranks. It was a relief to know she had more options to work with, but it seemed the increasing numbers only agitated Gilgamesh, in a way she didn’t quite understand. But who knew what went on in the king’s head. 

Mostly god and only partly man. A creature engineered to observe and judge humanity. To keep the gods in the people’s hearts and minds. Born with a destiny she couldn’t wrap her head around. She thought that research would help her understand the Archer, but it only made him more alien and unknowable.

It didn’t help that the King of Heroes began making more appearances in public. Although he rarely engaged with anyone. He could be found sitting in a corner as far away from everyone, observing them with narrow-eyed suspicion and disapproval, and occasionally making demands of his Master. Constant small tests of her obedience, and a subtle way to gloat over the extra attention he coerced her into giving him. 

Because denying him, no matter how diplomatically, only ended up in a fight. He barked accusations and insults, while the others snarked back in her defense. So to keep a tenuous peace, Eris continued to indulge the king, despite her better judgement. And despite the other Servants’ cautionary tales that his demands would only increase.

And they did. Just not in the way she thought.

She was curled up in the lounge with a few of the others late one night. A tv show was playing in the background as they alternated between chatting and watching. She should have been in bed hours ago, but she was having more and more trouble sleeping lately. Although she did her best not to show it, the pressure was beginning to get to her, and lately her evenings were spent tossing and turning in bed as her racing thoughts kept her up. 

Might as well not pretend, and one of the perks to having more Servants around meant that she never lacked for company.

“Master, perhaps it would be better if you went to sleep,” Diarmuid said quietly, nudging her arm with a small smile when she yawned and rubbed her eyes for the tenth time. 

“Mhm,” she nodded blearily, though she simply wrapped the blanket around her tighter as she stared at the screen. “Soon.”

“If you’re having nightmares, I can assist,” Merlin offered with a warm smile, sighing when she waved him off. 

“Not nightmares. Just can’t… settle,” she finally admitted reluctantly, blinking hard a few times to try and rid herself of the perpetual weight that hung on her eyelids. “This is nice though. Relaxing.”

She heard a derisive snort behind her and grimaced, inwardly rolling her eyes and wondering what Gilgamesh was even doing there. Apart from scrutinizing them. He’d shown up a little while ago, silently taking a seat in the corner and staring out the window as if none of them were there.

“Mhm,” Diarmuid nodded quietly, lips beginning to curl despite himself when her head began to droop, and her body slowly slumped against him. 

But right before her head could fall on the Saber’s shoulder, she felt herself yanked by the wrist. Her eyes popped open immediately and made a confused noise as Gilgamesh forcibly pulled her to her feet, and through one of his rippling, golden gates. 

“What are you--” she began, blinking stupidly when she found herself standing in his personal quarters. She hadn’t been there since she first dropped him off, and it was almost unrecognizable. She could only assume he trashed all the furniture and replaced it with his own. The bed was much larger, and littered with dozens of plush cushions and luxurious beddings. There was a wide chaise and a couple chairs around a rich, wooden table, with a chessboard laid on top. All the pieces looked like they were made of solid gold. 

Because of course they would be. 

Silk curtains and tapestries hung everywhere, so that the walls were completely covered. Other expensive knick knacks were placed carefully on tables that lined the room, boasting the wealth the king possessed. 

“Sleep,” Gilgamesh instructed curtly, pointing to his bed with a short huff. 

“... here?” she asked quizzically, turning to the king with a mild frown. “I have a bed of my own.”

“I’ve seen the farce you call beds. It’s no wonder you can’t sleep. And a weary Master is useless in battle. _So_ ,” the king scoffed, gesturing again to the bed impatiently. 

But Eris didn’t make a move towards it, and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

Gilgamesh’s frown deepened as he leaned his weight on a hip, eyes narrowing. “Your King offers a gift afforded to no other. Would you reject such generosity?”

At that, she let out an audible exhale, shoulders slumping subtly, and shook her head. It was too late for another row with the volatile monarch. “... no.”

And with that, she slowly made her way over, crawling under the covers and rearranging the pillows before curling up. The bed was worlds better than her own, she couldn’t deny it. It was the perfect balance of soft and firm. Hugging every curve of her body perfectly. The blankets were wonderfully thick and weighted, and the pillows were deliciously soft and silken to the touch. 

There was no doubt, it was a bed fit for a king. 

But rather than soothe her to sleep, she found herself staring at the wall blankly as her stomach slowly churned. 

Why the hell did he bring her here? 

“... _and_?” Gilgamesh asked blithely, changing from his usual armor into something far more casual with the flick of a finger. A silk shirt with a deep V-neck that hung loose around him, fitted pants. Around his neck hung a heavy, thick gold necklace made of what looked to be a chain of slender spear tips, with matching bracelets. His hair wasn’t coiffed to perfection like it normally was. Now it was almost shaggy. Golden locks swept across his face. 

Had she ever seen him out of his armor? It was strange.

“S’perfect, thank you,” she murmured, hugging one of the pillows closer to her. It was then that she began to note a subtle scent wafting from the beddings. It was a blend of fresh and musky, a tinge of sweet with a tinge of spice. Near impossible to describe, other than it was… intoxicating. Subtle enough that she found herself nosing the pillow, wanting a closer whiff.

Gilgamesh chuckled smugly, tilting his head as he watched her, before summoning a cup of wine for himself. “Unsurprising it soothes. It’s your King you smell.”

Somehow hearing that twisted her stomach into a large knot, and she groaned, turning her face away with an embarrassed frown. “... oh.”

“Why do you pull away? Are you ashamed? Or is it another mongrel’s scent you prefer?” he growled, fingers tightening around the neck of his goblet. 

“What? No,” she said defensively, side-eyeing him with a furrowed brow. “Why would I?”

The Archer snorted quietly and climbed onto the bed next to her, reaching for a book from the bedside table. “You’ve been bringing the new Saber along every day since he arrived. And the way you draped yourself on him earlier--”

“-- I did _not_ drape,” she argued, her own frown deepening as she reluctantly rolled onto her back to look at him. “He’s our newest arrival. I like to give extra attention in the beginning.”

“Attention that would be better spent elsewhere,” he scoffed, not deigning to meet her eyes as he opened the book and began reading.

“By elsewhere, you mean _you_ ,” she snorted, her skin itching at the way his lips curved ever so slightly on the left. 

“As it should be. I’m your King,” he said simply, taking a sip of wine and looking irritatingly unbothered. “It’s only natural.”

“Nothing natural about it,” she grumbled, rolling onto her side away from him. 

Gilgamesh inhaled slowly and quietly, dismissing her complaints entirely as he flipped the page. “ _Sleep_.”

“How am I supposed to sleep with you right next to me?” she muttered, feeling oddly self-conscious with him so close. He was _never_ this close. He was always several feet away. 

“You should be honored I allow your presence so close to me. I’m reading, how much noise do you expect me to make?” he asked wanly, though she didn’t miss the edge of amusement in his voice.

Eris grunted and frowned at the wall, pulling the covers higher up, half covering her face. “... whatever.” 

“What?” he asked sharply, pausing mid-page turn to frown at her. 

She groaned and shut her eyes tight, willing herself to not snap back at him. Keep the peace. She had to keep the peace. “Nothing. Sleeping.”

“Good. If you don’t snore, I may consider offering this gift again,” he said casually, rearranging the pillows and leaning back with a contented sigh. 

“I don’t snore,” she huffed, although she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. She’d always slept alone. 

“Then we’ll both have a pleasant evening,” Gilgamesh replied dryly, poking her back sharply. “Now stop talking. Your whining bores me.”

Eris rolled her eyes and nodded, burying herself further under the covers, trying to eliminate any sensation of his presence. Although the more she did, the more that scent wafted in, slowly circling her in an airy and agitating embrace. It was _so…_

Ugh. Why did he have to go and ruin it for her?

There was no escaping sleep, despite the persistent agitation she felt. The blankets were too soft, too heavy, too warm. The mattress hugged her too well. His scent was too soothing. And before long, she found herself drifting off to the quiet turn of pages, and the occasional sip of wine.

  
  


The next morning, Eris woke up with a groan, rubbing her face in the pillow and frowning at the feel of silk on her cheek. Wait a minute. Her pillow wasn’t-- 

Reality quickly set and she sat up with a start, blinking dumbly as her eyes surveyed the room. 

Right. She was in Gilgamesh’s quarters. 

“You lied,” the king said blithely, stretched out beside her, propping his head up with a hand. “You _do_ snore.”

“What?” she made a confused noise as she turned to him, frowning at how much nearer he was. And how perfectly casual he was about it. “I do?” 

“I considered kicking you awake,” he said lightly, a twinkle of mischief hanging firmly in his eyes. “More than once.”

“Glad you didn’t,” she muttered, smoothing a hand over her hair and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Your expression was amusing while you slept. Blissful and stupid. Like a puppy,” he added, making her stomach churn quietly, and she scrunched her nose. 

“I’m not a puppy,” she replied defensively, scrunching her nose at him.

“Aren’t you?” he scoffed with a small, haughty smile. He sat up and clasped her chin with his fingers, turning her head towards him. He observed her closely for a few seconds, too closely, before sniffing with reluctant approval. “Better.”

“It’s a glorious bed,” she admitted reluctantly, starting to flush the longer he stared. “... I should go. I need to change.” But as she slipped out of the bed and turned for the door, she heard Gilgamesh click his tongue with annoyance.

“I didn’t dismiss you, mongrel.”

Eris stopped dead in her tracks and closed her eyes to prevent the Archer from seeing her roll them. She slowly pivoted on a heel and clasped her hands in front of him neatly. “... may I go, my King?”

Gilgamesh’s mouth curved with smug victory, and he bowed his head gracefully. “You may. Your King is feeling generous this morning. You may have your breakfast with the others before delivering mine.”

“Thank you, my King,” she answered wearily, exiting the room with a shake of her head. 

Now she was delivering breakfast? Cú was right, she was wrong to indulge his ego from the start. This was only going to get worse. She had to find her way off this slippery slope.

A short while later, she entered the cafeteria with a tight smile, approaching the cluster of Servants seated together. But before she’d made it a few steps, Diarmuid got up and met her with a concerned look on his face.

“Master, are you alright?” he asked quietly, with a gravel in his voice that slithered up her spine.

“Of course, why?” she asked, rubbing the back of her neck and flushing at the knowing glimmer in his eyes. 

“Last night. Gilgamesh. He— did he… dishonour you?” he asked carefully, speaking in a hushed tone so only she could hear him.

“What? No. He just… forced me to sleep,” she said sheepishly, smiling when his features relaxed.

“He would have done better to use a gentler hand,” he criticized with a small frown. “You were nearly asleep. I’d intended to carry you to your quarters.”

Eris hummed, scrunching her nose and averting his gaze when her cheeks burned hotter. “Chivalrous.”

“You’ve proven to be a considerate Master, it’s only natural we consider you equally,” he said with a warm smile, sidestepping and guiding her to the table. 

“Mhm,” was all she managed to say, taking a seat next to Siegfried like usual and making a plate for herself and getting her head in the game for the rest of the day. 

The next Singularity.

  
  


When they returned later that evening, Eris was wiped. It was one battle after another in an endless stream. But they won, every time. Until yet another city was cleared of undead. She rubbed her cheek and hummed quietly as she walked down the hallway, her mind going over the day’s events. Seven singularities hadn’t sounded like much, at first. Until she realized how much effort it took to clear one of them. She worried how much more difficult it would get. How much stronger they’d all need to be.

At least the silver lining was how worn out she felt. It’d been draining enough that she was certain she’d pass out later. Once inside her room, she exhaled a long sigh of relief, and began undressing. She dropped her clothes haphazardly with every step, and rifled through her drawers. After gingerly changing into a chemise and shorts, she flopped onto the bed face first with a contented noise. 

Wasn’t nearly as nice as Gilgamesh’s bed, but who cared. It was _her_ bed. In _her_ room.

But just as she began to lazily wriggle under the covers to get more comfortable, she heard a soft thrum of magic. She pulled the covers over her head and buried her face in the pillow with a groan. 

“Mongrel.”

Eris pulled the covers tighter around her and huffed. “... no. I’m going to sleep.” Her words were muffled, but there was no missing the agitation in her voice. 

“Come.”

“I’m already in bed,” she mumbled, pulling the covers down just enough to see him out the corner of her eye. He was already standing in casual clothes. A goblet in hand, and an annoyed look on his face. How could he look more annoyed than she was? _He_ was the one badgering _her_.

“ _Now_.”

Eris cursed under her breath, curling into herself and clenching her hands into fists before throwing her covers back. She got to her feet and trudged past him into the gate, bristling at the smug smile on his face. She was too tired to muster up the energy to fight him, and he knew it. Manipulative bastard. He followed behind her into his quarters, pausing to watch her resentfully crawl into bed. 

“Why so sour? You should be honoured to warm the King’s bed,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer, an amused glint in his eye when she snorted and fluffed the pillows around her. 

“May I sleep _now_ , my King?” she asked snippily, curling up and heaving a sigh as the silk sheets teased her skin. 

“You may,” he said with a subtle nod, walking to the bed and reaching for a datapad on the bedside table. 

“And can I sleep in my own bed tomorrow?” she huffed, getting a bit cozier once he was out of sight. 

“That depends,” he shrugged, stretching himself out next to her, casually taking a sip of wine as he scrolled through digital reports. 

“On what?” 

“On whether you snore like a lion,” he said with a wry smile. “Whether I’m feeling generous.”

Eris rolled her eyes and stayed silent, pulling the covers over her and once again trying to drown out any reminder of his presence. She prayed he wouldn’t. Maybe she could purposely piss him off. 

She’d kept quiet for so long to maintain a sense of calm and ease at HQ. But this was too much. He couldn’t just come to her at all hours of the night making demands. Even if it was for something that turned out to be fairly considerate, in a twisted way.

But before she could come up with any decent ideas, the warmth and luxurious softness of the bed lulled her into a deep sleep.

  
  


Eris was gently stirred the next morning by a foreign sensation: fingers running through her hair. 

Wait, what?

She frowned slightly, half asleep and disoriented as she let out a soft, confused noise. Hadn’t her hair been up last night?

And then she realized where she was, as she rubbed her face against a soft, silken pillow. 

Oh god. No. The asshole King of ‘All He Sees’ and ‘All That’s Ever Existed’ was _not_ stroking her hair. What alternate universe had she ended up in?

“Good morning, mongrel,” Gilgamesh said wryly, pulling his hand only enough so that he could wrap a curl around his finger slowly.

“... good morning,” she mumbled awkwardly, a shiver running up her spine as she curled further into herself. “I see you didn’t kick me awake. My snoring wasn’t too terrible?”

“It was… tolerable,” he said after a moment’s pause, rubbing the lock of hair between his fingers idly. “It’s much quieter when you’re sleeping well.”

“Well, that’s good I guess,” she sighed, slowly sitting up and turning to look at him. 

He appeared to have been lounging next to her, a book in his lap as his eyes slowly opened to meet her wary stare. “What? Are you awestruck by my beauty again?” he asked with a smug curl of his lips, which immediately made her own twist downwards. 

“No,” she huffed, looking around the bed for her hair elastic. 

“I threw it away,” Gilgamesh said casually after a few seconds, with a knowing glint in his eye. 

“What for?” she frowned, getting out of bed and trying to smooth her wild waves.

“I prefer your hair down.”

“What? I’ll just get a spare,” she scoffed, shaking her head with annoyance.

“I threw those away too,” he said blandly, summoning a cup of wine and taking a slow sip.

“You’re kidding.” Eris gave him a gape-mouthed, deadpan stare, irritation making her skin itch.

“As I said, I prefer it down,” he replied casually, tilting his head and eyeing her up and down slowly. In a way that left her feeling awkward and naked.

“Well _I_ prefer it up,” she said with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll just borrow one.”

“No, you won’t,” he said huskily, his smile quickly turning into a scowl as he sat up and leaned forward. “You’ll do as your King commands.”

“Really?” she sighed, frowning at him quizzically. “Why do you even care?”

“Who says I do?” he replied, a knowing glint in his eye as he stood in front of her. “Perhaps it’s not about the hair.”

Eris squeezed the back of her neck and shook her head, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn’t the end of the world. She wasn’t sure it was worth fighting about. But at the same time, she got the sinking suspicion that this was only the beginning. 

He must be playing games out of boredom. It was the one complaint he aired at every opportunity. Maybe when she summoned more Servants, his interest would turn elsewhere. He was the King of Heroes. This was just a passing amusement. It would be fine. 

“Fine. May I go?” she asked wearily, dropping her arms to her side and avoiding his victorious smirk. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair and huffing as she headed to her room. 

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time posting in this fandom, hopefully you enjoy! Had too many ideas floating around, hoping to get inspired to turn one of these into a larger story.
> 
> If you liked, I'm open to requests/suggestion for further pairings/one-shots to add here :)


	2. Kisses (Caster Gil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't help but dote on the Chaldea's newest arrival, the boy-king of Uruk. But his older selves take issue with how much of _their_ attention she's giving him.

* * *

“Master, are you sure it’s alright?” the young Gilgamesh asked innocently, looking at Eris with large, round eyes as they exited the Control Room. “I noticed you’ve been taking me out quite a bit recently. Won’t such preferential treatment cause problems?”

“You’re the most recently summoned Servant. And I like to spend some extra time with new arrivals,” she smiled, bending down to kiss his round cheek.

The boy squirmed at the affection, huffing quietly as he looked off to the side, lips pulling gently on the right. “ _Master._ It’s unbecoming for a king to be treated so frivolously.”

“I’m sorry, my King. I can hardly help myself. Your cheeks were made to be kissed,” she teased gently, placing her hands behind her back as they walked together.

“... perhaps they were, I can’t be certain. But that should be for a king to determine, _not_ his retainer,” the child responded slowly, rubbing his chin as he fell deep into thought. 

“I meant no disrespect. If it’s unbefitting, I’ll stop. I’d never want to displease my King,” she added, eyes twinkling with quiet mischief as they headed towards the cafeteria.

A couple beats later, he looked up at her with a bare smile. “I’ll allow such affection, if it’s kept to a minimum. I wouldn’t want to discourage your devotion. It’s only right a retainer should have such feelings about their ruler.” 

“I suppose that’s true. You’re wise beyond your years, my King,” Eris murmured, biting her lip and fighting a smile as she nodded sagely. 

“I know,” Gilgamesh said simply, offering a careless shrug, and pausing just in front of the double doors. “But I’ve decided…”

“Yes?” she asked, tilting her head and doing everything in her power to hide her amusement at the solemn look on his face. 

“If I’m going to allow such displays, they should be _balanced_ ,” he huffed, clasping his hands behind his back and lifting his chest a bit, looking at her expectantly. 

“... balanced?” Eris asked quizzically, eyebrows raised curiously. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“No, I suppose you don’t. You aren’t as cunning as I’d like in a Master,” he sighed gently with disappointment, staring at the floor and pursing his lips. When he looked up at her again, his cheeks were tinged pink. “It would be better to kiss _both_ sides, rather than only one.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, that’s perfectly logical,” she nodded, fighting off a giggle when he tilted his other cheek to her with an ever-patient and loud inhale. She shut her eyes tight for a moment, clearing her throat politely before bending down to kiss it softly. “Is that better?”

“Yes,” Gilgamesh nodded, averting her amused gaze as he fussed with his clothes sheepishly. “That’s enough for now. I’ll notify you the next time such… devotion, is appropriate.”

“Of course, my King,” she bowed her head respectfully, covering her mouth the moment he stood erect and sauntered into the cafeteria. 

Good god, how had Gilgamesh turned from such a sweet child into the temperamental monster she still struggled to handle?

But just as the young king stepped inside, Eris shuddered when she heard fast, heavy footsteps coming from her left. 

“Mongrel!”

A shot of electricity jolted up her spine, and she shut her eyes tight, inwardly cursing. “... yes, my King?” she sighed, turning to face a bristling, scowling Gilgamesh in his half-dressed golden regalia. Because apparently his ‘full glory’ could only be appreciated if he stopped wearing chest armor.

Naturally. 

Not that she was complaining. He was built like a Roman statue. Both he and his Caster self were. Not that she’d say that to either of them. Their egos were big enough as it was. 

Because of course the boy-king wasn’t her only Gilgamesh. She had the pleasure of summoning all three. She desperately hoped there weren’t any more of him floating around. She was almost certain if there were, they’d show up too before long. 

“Do your insults know no end? You allow the most valuable weapon in your arsenal to gather dust, for _that_ weakling??” Archer barked, gesturing impatiently to the cafeteria. 

“Do you really think so little of yourself?” she asked with a rueful smile, bracing herself for what was sure to be another bellowing argument. “He’s our newest recruit. You _know_ that I--”

“-- a useless practice, as I’ve told you _repeatedly_. You waste precious time and resources on mongrels that will never see the heart of battle,” he snarked, hands clenched into fists at his side, and eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“And as _I’ve_ said, it’s _not_ useless. We never know what might come up. When one of them could give us an edge that no one else can,” she smiled with gritted teeth, clasping her wrist behind her back and squeezing it tightly. 

“You indulge him too much!” Gilgamesh barked, nose curling with deep disapproval. 

“No, I indulge _you_ too much,” she hissed, her hands clenched into fists behind her. “What exactly are you complaining about, besides boredom? Because _that’s_ a problem with no solution, no matter what I do.”

“I’m your King. Of course you should indulge—” 

“-- and I _have_! Good grief, you make no sense! You’re already fully ascended. I’ve done everything I could to return you to your ‘former glory’. Ahead of _everyone_ and _everything_ else. Of course I’m going to focus on the others now. What more could you possibly want??” she snapped, running her fingers through her hair and gripping it tight. “I meet _every_ demand, at _all_ _hours_ and you’re _still_ scowling! It’s exhausting, you’re impossible to please!”

“You dote on him like a simpering fool! It’s clear he’s manipulating you in order to get what he wants,” Archer huffed, glaring at the wall intently. 

“He’s a _child_ . Children _should_ be doted on,” she sighed, rubbing her cheek tiredly. “As if anyone would fault me for it. I don’t get what the fuss is about: he’s _you_ ! He’s sweet, considerate, and wise beyond his years. Maybe it’s simply because he’s all the things _you_ aren’t, that I enjoy his company so much.”

“Take care with your words, _mongrel_. I’m in no mood for your insolence today,” Gilgamesh said huskily, a sharp edge of danger in his voice when his gaze returned to her. 

“If you’re going to bend her over your knee, perhaps it’d be best to find somewhere more private,” an all-too haughty and familiar voice called out from behind her. 

Eris whipped her head back and gave Caster Gilgamesh a dirty look. “Excuse you. That is _not_ happening.”

“You’d certainly be better for it,” the mage said with a teasing curve of his mouth. “I dare say you might even enjoy it.” 

“Excuse you! Inappropriate!” she squawked, her cheeks beginning to turn a deep pink.

“I’m your King. _I_ decide what’s appropriate,” he said dismissively, pausing near his Archer self. 

“If I’m going to bend her over, I’ll do it where _everyone_ can watch her being disciplined,” the Archer sneered, a threatening smirk on his lips that only made her beet red.

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Wouldn’t I? I’m your _King_ . I will do _whatever_ I please. And you, _mongrel_ , will remember your place,” Archer spat, taking a menacing step towards her.

“So what has she done now?” Caster asked blandly, tilting his head and observing his Master with a furrowed brow.

“Why is it always me, when it’s _always_ one of your two?! Humanity is obliterated, and my biggest problem is _still_ the King of Heroes! _He_ is the only one who doesn’t give any grief. Why _wouldn’t_ I treat him nicer than you two?!” Eris exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air helplessly before gesturing to the cafeteria doors. 

“... I see. The child,” Caster sighed, nose curling with distaste. “It _is_ ridiculous, the way you fawn over him. You’ll spoil him rotten. And besides, he’s much weaker than either of us. You’d do better to put your time and effort into Servants that can actually bear the brunt of battle.” 

“Oh god, it’s an echo chamber,” she groaned, covering her face in her hands. “I’m in hell.” 

“You should be so lucky as to get _one_ of us, much less _both_ . Only _you_ would complain like an ungrateful wretch, when fortune smiled on you twice over,” Caster Gil barked, making her whimper behind her hands. 

“... agreed,” Archer huffed resentfully, crossing his arms over his chest victoriously. One of the only times he approved of his older self’s interference.

“Bloody hell,” Eris muttered, shaking her head despairingly. “I can’t. I can’t fight you both. Just tell me what you want. What will stop this?”

“I warned you, Master,” a soft voice sighed to her right, and when she looked over, the boy-king was standing just outside the cafeteria doors, eating an ice cream bar tranquilly.

“... you did,” she conceded tiredly, her arms falling to her side. “And does my King have a solution to the predicament I’m in?”

“You expect a _child_ to--” Archer began, interrupted when Caster swiftly held a hand up, tilting his head and observing his younger self closely.

The young Gilgamesh took a bite of his ice cream bar, looking between his older selves and his Master thoughtfully. After swallowing, he inhaled deeply and nodded. “Balance. That’s the solution.”

“Balance,” Eris repeated dumbly, shrugging quizzically. 

“Ah, yes. Master has no aptitude for subtlety,” the boy lamented gently, shaking his head and pursing his lips when his adult selves snickered in agreement. “You cannot give any of us preferential treatment. What you do for one, you must also do for the others.”

“... that’s fair, I suppose,” she nodded reluctantly, squeezing the back of her neck tightly. “I’ll endeavour to do that then.”

“-- And so, to correct this oversight,” the little king continued, without skipping a beat. “You must offer them the same display of loyalty and devotion that you gave me.”

“What is he talking about?” Caster murmured to his other self, but Archer only responded with a slow, smug smile. A smile that widened when Eris’ cheeks began to burn a bright red, and she made a choking noise. “What happened before I arrived?”

“My King, you must be joking,” Eris coughed, looking at Archer and Caster nervously. 

“If I was, I’d make it much more obvious, so that you’d get it,” the boy smiled serenely, taking another bite of ice cream before gesturing gracefully to the others. Which elicited another round of husky laughter. 

“Perhaps the boy isn’t entirely useless after all,” Archer Gil said wanly, bracing his elbows as he stood straighter. “A sound solution. Go on, mongrel.”

“What? No,” she said reflexively, taking a step away from the two men.

“What is she meant to do, exactly?” Caster Gil repeated, looking between his other selves with a confused frown. 

“The longer you take to give me what is mine, the more I consider public discipline,” Archer warned huskily, making her squirm and mutter.

“... for fu— fine,” she huffed, approaching the Archer king with a resentful frown. He forced her onto her tiptoes before he finally deigned to bend down. Just enough. Tilting his cheek towards her with the barest smirk.

Caster made a throaty noise of interest, his eyes beginning to glimmer as he watched his Master kiss Archer softly on the cheek. “... I see.”

“There,” she grumbled, landing back on her heels and about to take a step back when the boy-king quietly shook his head. 

“Master. _Balance_.”

She couldn’t stop the childish, whining noise when Archer tilted his head to the other side with a victorious eyebrow arch. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, hopping up to kiss the other cheek resentfully. “Okay. Consider yourself doted on.”

Archer cackled amusedly before turning on his heel and strutting back down the hall. “Let this be a lesson, mongrel. _No_ _one_ comes before your King.”

“It’s only fair, Master,” the boy smiled reproachfully, taking another bite before returning to the cafeteria, now that his judgement was over.

Which only left the final King of Uruk. Who smiled like the cat who ate a canary. With a certain lusty glimmer in his eyes that made her stomach squirm and flutter at the same time.

“Naturally you save the best for last,” Gilgamesh said softly, practically purring as he swept in closer, boldly wrapping an arm around her waist. “How fortunate I appeared when I did. Who knew my little Master owed me such a debt.”

“It’s not a-- I didn’t-- it’s _his_ fault!” she protested, pointing in the direction of Archer Gil, shivering when he pulled her in closer. “Hey, that’s too-- he didn’t--”

“-- and that’s why he’s a fool,” Gilgamesh replied smugly as he slid his other arm around her, bending low enough that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. “ _Now..._ my tribute, mongrel.”

She groaned throatily and scrunched her nose, kissing his cheek reluctantly, and feeling another flutter when he made a quiet, approving noise. 

He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes drifting along her features with a wisp of a smile. “And the other?” he asked teasingly, turning his head to the other side as he squeezed her waist gently. 

“Evil,” she whispered, cheeks burning as she dropped another kiss on his smooth, warm skin. 

“One should never take a retainer’s offering so flippantly,” he shrugged not-so-innocently, humming contentedly as he brushed a thumb along her jaw. “Perhaps it would be wiser to collect the next one as well.”

“What? But I haven’t--”

“I _know_ you. Those perfectly round, rosy cheeks. Made to entice every sweet maiden in sight. You can’t help wanting to, any more than _he_ can help wanting you to,” Caster murmured knowingly, holding her chin lightly with his fingers. “And I don’t follow your every footstep the way they do. Who knows how many more kisses you might owe, that you would foolishly try to keep to yourself. Hoping I won’t find out. But I _always_ find out, little Master.”

She mumbled something inaudible, frowning as she looked over his shoulder, unable to deny the truth of his astute observations. 

Gilgamesh chuckled in response, tickling her side gently and nudging her cheek with his nose. “I’m never wrong,” he whispered cockily, pressing a finger against her jaw and coaxing her to look at him. “I can feel your heartbeat quickening. It seems my little Master isn’t as opposed as she’s trying to appear.”

“You’re just going to get me in trouble,” Eris said reproachfully, toes curling in her shoes at the barely-veiled hunger in his eyes. “If he finds out--”

“What kind of King would I be, if I didn’t protect what’s mine?” he asked lightly, mouth curling into a gloating smirk as he suddenly pressed his lips against hers, fingers digging into her flesh ever so slightly. 

Eris didn’t stand a chance in hell of resisting. And if she was honest with herself, she never intended to. A soft moan caught in her throat as she kissed him back, her body slowly melting against his. He rumbled with approval, pressing her to him more tightly, and teasing her lips apart gently with his tongue. 

She’d been kissed before. Despite what some of her Servants thought, she wasn’t a complete virginal wallflower. Not completely. 

Still, there was a vast chasm between a sweet, awkward kiss stolen one fateful evening after school, and the King of Heroes. Right in the middle of the hallway. Right in front of the cafeteria. If she thought about it too hard, she’d probably run screaming out of mortification. 

But there was no escaping his ironclad embrace. One kiss blended smoothly into another. And another. And _another_. Demanding and possessive, the way only the King of Heroes could be. But without the thorns and roughness she might’ve expected from Archer.

No.

This king had been polished by life and loss. He didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted, and claim it for his own. She was in a daze by the time their lips finally parted, and her heart drummed loudly in her ears. She braced her hands on his arms when she realized her knees had become jelly-like, and hummed confusedly to herself. 

“That was… you are…” she murmured, shaking her head and exhaling audibly before looking up at him furtively. 

“The only one you’ll ever want to kiss again. _I know_ ,” he quipped smugly, squeezing her side lightly before patting the top of her head. “And I _will_ be.”

“Wait, what?” she sputtered, running her fingers through her hair when she heard the cafeteria doors open again.

“... ah. Yes. I suspected,” the boy-king commented sagely, a strange knowing glimmer in his eyes as he observed his Caster self holding his Master. “I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

“No, I don’t suppose it could,” the elder Gilgamesh said wryly, pressing his lips to his Master’s forehead before sauntering down the hall without a word. 

“You can’t tell Archer,” Eris whispered, her eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped towards the boy. “You know how he is. You know the fight it’d start…”

“ _Master_ ,” the young Gilgamesh said admonishingly, faint lines creasing his brow as his mouth curled into a small frown. “What kind of king would I be, if I didn’t protect what’s mine?”

Eris laughed suddenly, pushing a hand into her fluttering belly as she stared into the boy’s deep, ruby red eyes. “God, it really _is_ you, isn’t it? They’re _all_ you.”

“Of course,” he smiled easily, holding his hand out to her. “Now enough dawdling, Master. Your ice cream is melting…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love them all, I really do. 
> 
> I'd thought it would be more Archer Gil/Gudako, but nope. CasGil makes it a clean sweep. Without even trying. 
> 
> Damn him lol


	3. The King's Bed Pt. 2 (Archer Gil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been quite a while since she'd visited the king's chambers. And despite how his discreet, knowing smirks sent flutters in her belly, she thought that was the end of it. 
> 
> She couldn't have been more wrong. 
> 
> It was only the beginning.

* * *

Several days later, Eris returned to the Singularity with Diarmuid, Mash and Gilgamesh. It’d been a few days since she brought the Archer with her on a mission, mostly because of the growing nerves she felt around him. She hadn’t visited his chambers since the last time, but there was a knowing glimmer in his eyes and the barest smirk on his lips whenever she caught his gaze.

Every time it reminded her of shockingly soothing fingers threaded through her hair, gently waking her up. Every time it sent a faint flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Every time her cheeks turned a little pinker. 

And every time, his smirk deepened. Little by little.

_Problematic_. 

She was grateful they were all forced to focus on the task at hand, but she couldn’t keep the King of Heroes out of her head. Not forever. He silently refused to let it happen. Always making brief, discreet eye contact with her at random intervals so that she was in a near constant state of barely flushing.

“Senpai, if you’d like to push forward, we’ll have to continue on foot,” Mash said, pointing to the next town, far off in the distance. 

“Mhm,” Eris nodded, squeezing the back of her neck and shaking her wrists out. She’d had to expend some mana to heal Diarmuid, and she expected she’d have to keep doing so until they rayshifted back. She really should’ve brought Merlin instead of Gilgamesh. He could’ve easily kept the Saber alive on his own. 

But the King of Heroes refused to be left behind. At least they were a power house together. The fights ended much more quickly than usual. 

“I’m sorry, Master. It’s my fault you tire,” Diarmuid said quietly, looking down at her with an apologetic smile. “I’ll become stronger so I’m less of a burden on you.”

“You’re not a burden. It’s my job,” she smiled back, squeezing his arm briefly. “You’ve been doing well. I’ve got enough mana to clear the next city before we return.”

Gilgamesh snorted derisively from behind them, eliciting an immediate eye roll from the young Master. “You would’ve done better to bring Merlin,” he commented, curling his nose and giving Diarmuid a dirty side glance. 

“I’d pin myself into a corner if I only ever brought you two. There’s no way to know what we’ll face in the future. I want everyone ready if I need them,” Eris explained calmly, rubbing her temple as they began walking. “And a Saber is always invaluable on the field.”

“Master, get on my back. It would do no good to wear yourself out before we get there,” Diarmuid suggested, pausing in front of Eris and crouching slightly. 

“Oh. It’s okay, I can--”

“Please, I insist.”

“A pathetic excuse to let your hands wander,” Gilgamesh said snippily, eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he watched Eris reluctantly hop onto his back, and the Saber clasped her legs lightly. 

“Unlike some, I would never risk a lady’s honour,” Diarmuid said easily, carrying his Master as if she weighed nothing. 

“ _Lady_ ,” the Archer scoffed, his gaze acutely focused on his companion’s hands with a growing scowl. “You’d be unfit to touch a lady, much less a witless mongrel like--”

“-- Take care with your words, king. Our Master may tolerate your condescension, but _I_ won’t,” the Saber said quietly, an edge of danger in his voice despite the calm, stoic delivery.

“Won’t you?” Gilgamesh said dryly, his lips curving into a small sneer as his eyes raised to Eris. “The mongrel knows her place, unlike you. She knows how generous her King can be.”

Eris’s cheeks immediately flushed at his implication and turned her head away, bristling when he chuckled raspily. 

“I can’t imagine our Master would want anything to do with your ‘generosity’,” Diarmuid huffed, squeezing her legs discreetly. But not discreetly enough, as she caught a barely audible growl from the king. 

“Oh but she’s already proven she does,” the Archer smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve no doubt she’d jump into my arms if I offered.”

“Excuse me?” Eris slowly turned her head back to Gilgamesh, her eyes turning into fuming slits. 

“Senpai,” Mash said softly, her cheeks beginning to flush as she felt her Master’s anger begin to boil. “Perhaps we should discuss the fights ahead…”

“You’d be a fool to deny it,” Gilgamesh commented, his tone placid and bored as he turned his attention to their surroundings. “You’d be only too happy if I condescended to such things.”

Eris snorted, shaking her head as she slid off Diarmuid’s back to face him, hands on her hips. “Contrary to what you might think, not every woman is ready to throw herself at your feet.”

“You expect me to believe that?” the Archer quipped, all agitation melting away when she left the Saber’s hold, appearing content as a cat. “As though you’re an exception. You barely even count as a woman.”

“Barely, but I still count. And I’m sure there are _plenty_ more where I came from,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and moving to walk beside Mash. “Your ego is larger than your legends. It sucks the air out of every room you enter. You’re impossible!”

Surprisingly, Gilgamesh ignored her barbed remarks, the barest smile hanging in the corner of his mouth as they continued on in awkward silence.

The rest of the day was tense when they made it to the next city. Eris’s usual aura of tranquility had been notably wrinkled thanks to the King’s self-assured arrogance. And try as she might, she couldn’t quite rid herself of her annoyance. Particularly when the Archer seemed so amused by it. As though he enjoyed knowing he could get under her skin.

That evening when she exited her coffin, she was worn and out of sorts. She’d spent most of her mana keeping Diarmuid and Mash alive. But seeing the disgruntled look on her face when she entered the cafeteria, her Servants quickly tried to come up with something to lift her spirits. 

“Master, why don’t you take the night off?” Emiya suggested, smiling with approval at the quiet noises she made as she ate his stew.

“Hm? Should try to summon,” she sighed, shaking her head and shrugging. Part of her wanted more Servants around so she’d have an excuse to bring Gilgamesh less. But the other part knew she should spend more time training the ones she had. “Then I have some reports to finish.”

“It can wait till tomorrow. Why don’t we have another movie night?” Helena suggested with a smile, tilting her head at Eris’ doubtful look. “We could all use a little time to relax together.”

“Mm. Could do, I guess. Probably shouldn’t stay up too late though,” she admitted reluctantly, although the thought of spending some quiet, comfortable time with the others did sound nice. Maybe it would unwind her from the long, frustrating day. “... okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Wonderful! Mash and I already picked the next set of movies,” Helena clapped her hands with a grin, causing the men to groan wearily. 

“No romance,” Emiya grumbled, scrunching his nose and giving the Caster a wary side glance. 

Mash’s head drooped a little, rubbing her cheek and nodding glumly. 

Merlin sighed and patted her back, looking to the others with a playful smile. “A little romance is always nice. Why don’t we allow the girls to pick one, and we pick the other?”

“Not in the mood for romance either,” Eris groaned, making a face as she scooped a bit more stew into her bowl. “Maybe fantasy or sci-fi.”

“Murdery mystery would be good,” Emiya suggested after a thoughtful pause. “Or a martial arts movie?”

“We’re surrounded by death as it is. Something uplifting would make a nice change,” Martha pointed out with a small smile.

Siegfried leaned back for a moment, eyes focused on his Master, before shrugging. “It matters little to me. I’ll watch whatever Master wants.”

“One of these days you’ll have to pick something you like,” Eris murmured, leaning against him with a small smile. “Guess you’d need to watch more movies to decide though.”

“Not sure I see the point,” he admitted, but exhaled in defeat when his Master rested her head on his arm. “Very well. As you wish.”

“Well, while the rest of you pick the movies, I guess I’ll get some popcorn ready,” Emiya smirked, clearing up the empty dishes off the table with Diarmuid and Martha’s help. 

Eris was a bit more perked up when she headed into the lounge, ready in pj’s with a short robe tied snugly around her. They didn’t get many chances to relax together, but it was always nice when they did. A quick breather to recharge before the next gruelling leg of their journey. 

She tucked herself on the left end of the couch and stretched her legs onto the ottoman with a contented sigh. Truth be told she didn’t really care what they watched. It was enough for her that they were together and getting along. 

Well. All but one. 

Gilgamesh was nowhere in sight, but it wasn’t surprising. Even if he did pop his head in, he was more likely to snort in disgust and leave than stick around. The King of Heroes, spending time with the mongrels? Heaven forbid! But that’s what had her so relaxed. She could have some king-free time, with Servants who actually valued her as much as she valued them.

They’d all reluctantly agreed to watch a romcom, followed by a mystery-thriller. After some moving and rearranging, they were all settled on the couches, chairs and floor cushions surrounding the large tv screen. Emiya made several bowls of popcorn that he dispersed amongst them, and their evening relaxation could finally begin. 

She hadn’t anticipated how drained she was, or maybe it was because a heart-tugging romance was the last thing she wanted, but a third of the way through she found herself nodding off. Merlin had wheedled the spot next to his Master, and was only too happy to let her fall asleep on his shoulder as he gently tucked a large pink flower behind her ear. 

But just as her head began to droop his way, and the mage began to sneakily slide an arm around her waist, she was rudely awoken by a swift kick to her leg. “Ow, what the--” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes and jerking her head when Gilgamesh stood in front of her. 

In his casual attire. A cup of wine in one hand while the other crossed over his chest, a deep frown on his face. 

“Mongrel. Move,” he said curtly, eyebrows knitted together when she made a confused noise. 

“What? Why?” she groaned, rubbing her cheek and staring at the TV screen distractedly. When had she fallen asleep?

“You’re in my seat,” he said imperiously, eyes narrowing slowly until she started to shift. 

“It’s alright, Master. You can curl up on my lap if you like,” Merlin said huskily, a flirtatious curl to his lips as he reached for her hand.

“-- Lay one finger, mage, and you will regret it,” Gilgamesh growled, yanking Eris to her feet so he could take her place on the couch. A small rippling gate dropped a large, lush cushion at his feet and he pointed to it lazily. “ _There_.”

“Are you serious?” Eris huffed, her cheeks beginning to burn with the way her Servants watched their exchange with morbid curiosity. “Give me my blanket at least.”

She pointed to the velour blanket the king was sitting on, but he ignored her with a wave, leaning back against the sofa. “Sit.”

The young Master gave him a deadpan stare, grumbling and waving sharply when both Emiya and Diarmuid opened their mouths to protest. A moment later she huffed and dropped onto the cushion with a defeated groan.

Martha opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it, unpausing the movie so they could finish it.

She missed the entire middle, but it ended the way they usually did. The guy running at a train station, to stop the girl he loves from leaving. Catching her at the last minute. Laying his feelings at her feet. She tears up. They kiss. A toe-curling, soul-crushing kind of kiss. Because love conquers all in movies. If only it was the same in real life.

She couldn’t quite stop the blush to her cheeks as she watched the protagonists embrace and murmur words of love to each other. Didn’t help when the other girls sighed happily. 

Everyone got up to stretch their legs and refill their drinks before the next movie started. Eris took the opportunity to hit the bathroom when Gilgamesh clasped her wrist firmly. “Where are you going?” he asked with a mild frown.

“To pee, _god_ ,” she muttered, tugging her wrist away and giving him a dirty look.

Five minutes later, everyone was settled again with a second round of popcorn when she re-entered the lounge.

And then she noticed her floor cushion had disappeared.

With a confused frown, she squeezed the back of her neck and started to walk past Gilgamesh and Merlin to sit with Siegfried. But in one swift gesture, the king grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

Until she found herself sitting in the Archer’s lap, blinking stupidly. “What’re you doing?” she squawked, eyeing him suspiciously when he casually wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer.

“I’m cold,” he said simply, lips tugging in an obnoxious way when she snorted. He removed the flower tucked behind her ear, and tossed it in Merlin’s face with a haughty sniff. “ _Better_.”

“You’re literally sitting on my blanket,” she scoffed, reaching for an end sticking out and pulling it roughly. After several tugs she managed to get it, and waved it in his face. “Here. _That_ can keep you warm.”

Gilgamesh put his cup down slowly, gaze steady as he watched her with an inscrutable expression. “Good,” he replied, loosely throwing it around them both. Then he leaned back and hummed contentedly, wrapping a hand around her waist and discreetly but insistently coaxing her to nestle against him. “Play the movie.”

Eris resisted his prompts, cheeks burning red as everyone continued to watch the exchange with a laser focus, ignoring everything else that was going on. With a discomfited groan, she nodded in assent to Emiya, who turned on the next movie with a concerned side eye.

Then very, _very_ slowly, she forced herself to lean back, all the while her mind raced. What the hell was he playing at? Just another show of dominance? Probably. But why now? Couldn’t she have a single night of relaxation without him ruining it? And why did he have to be so weird in front of everyone? What was she supposed to do, start _another_ fight and ruin everyone’s night?

No, of course not. 

And he knew it. Yet again, he’d managed to pin her in a corner, for reasons she couldn’t possibly fathom. What was the point of his underhanded manipulation??

She sighed in defeat and slumped against his chest, her head naturally resting in the crook of his neck. The Archer made a quiet, throaty noise of approval, resting a hand over her knees while the other rubbed her lower back idly.

She pushed her lips to the side and scrunched her nose when his scent wafted her way. Hmph. It was both alluring and invasive. A scent that reminded her of a certain, wonderful bed. Several minutes into the movie, his hand slowly drifted up her back. She stiffened in silent panic, until his fingers found their way to her scalp, and began scratching it gently.

… huh. That felt nice. Even if he was the last person she wanted to do it. She exhaled shakily, unconsciously nestling in further, not protesting when his other hand tucked her legs closer to him. 

He was much more comfortable than she expected. Much warmer too. Why’d he complain about being cold? It was probably bullshit. It was like having her own personal heater. Between that and the head scratching and a long weary day, her eyelids began to get heavy again. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d drifted off for, when she felt herself being gently shifted. She let out a soft groan of protest and nuzzled the king’s neck sleepily, trying to disappear back into unconsciousness.

“Not like that, support her back,” Merlin hissed in a hushed tone nearby. “Have you never carried anyone before?”

“Shut up, mongrel,” she heard Gilgamesh snap angrily, gently coaxing her to straddle his hips. She made an annoyed noise but complied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hiding her face in his neck. “If _any_ of you wake her, I will unleash the entirety of my vault.”

“Careful king, that almost sounded… _tender_ ,” Emiya smirked, his voice low as he watched the Archer slowly get to his feet, with Eris sleepily wrapped around him.

“One word,” Gilgamesh growled, pressing a hand against her shoulder blades when several golden portals opened into the room, weapons pointing dangerously at the lounging Servants. 

The thrumming made her stir and she opened her eyes a crack, disorientation contorting her face when she noticed she was being carried away. “What’re you doing?” she mumbled, shivering without the blanket draped around her. “S’cold…”

The king didn’t bother to reply as they disappeared into a portal, and entered his room. 

“No no no, _my_ room,” she grunted, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “M’not staying here again.”

“Fool. As if you could sleep anywhere better,” he scoffed, curling his nose and tapping her bum lightly like he was scolding a child. “You’ll stay wherever I tell you to.”

“Tyrant,” she muttered, making a displeased face when he dropped her onto his bed unceremoniously and summoned a cup of wine to his hand. He arched an eyebrow as he took a slow sip, gesturing to the bed. “What’s up with you? You’ve been… _weird_.”

“Bed,” he said tersely, ignoring her observation with a subtle purse of his lips. 

Eris cursed under her breath and pulled off her robe, dropping it on the floor before crawling under the covers resentfully. “ _Bossy_.”

“Naturally. I’m your King. And as my mongrel, it’s your place to obey,” Gilgamesh said blithely, lips twisting into a bare smirk as he watched her snuggle up to some pillows. “And obedience reaps rewards.” 

“Hm, like this bed. This wonderful, wonderful bed,” she sighed, nosing the pillow with a contented groan. “You’re still an asshole. M’too tired, and it’s too… _mm_.”

“Such a predictable weakness. And so easily exploited,” the Archer noted with an amused sigh, taking another sip before stretching out next to her. 

She muttered inaudibly under her breath, squeezing a pillow in her arms. “Which you _do_ , at every turn.”

“If you’re so ungrateful, perhaps I should stop being kind, and consider being cruel,” Gilgamesh threatened huskily, his voice like broken velvet. “So you remember your place.”

“No no no. I’m sorry,” she sighed, rolling onto her side to face him, opening her eyes blearily. “You’ve been weird. And manipulative. But… it _has_ been kind of nice. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” he snorted, frowning deeply with disapproval, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been exceedingly generous. You’re practically spoiled.”

“Yes, yes. I’m spoiled. Can we argue tomorrow?” Eris pleaded gently, rubbing her eyes and settling back into her original position, facing the opposite wall. “M’sleepy.”

“Then stop arguing,” he huffed, lips pursing as he watched her curl up. “... has the bed warmed?”

“Yes,” she sighed contentedly, hugging a pillow again when she felt a rush of cool air as he slid underneath the covers next to her. “Thought Heroic Spirits didn’t need to sleep.”

“Oh, so the King can’t enjoy his own bed? You think it’s reserved for ungrateful mongrels such as yourself?” he scoffed, pressing his chest against her back as he slid an arm around her waist. 

Eris stiffened immediately at his casual embrace. The thoughtless way his cheeks rested against the crook of her neck. “... my King, what are you doing?” she whispered as a shot of adrenaline rudely woke her up. 

“You’re warm,” he murmured, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before sighing contentedly. 

She squirmed with him so close, feeling her heart begin to pound and her cheeks heat up. All she could manage was a soft grunt in reply, trying to will herself to calm down and fall asleep. 

But she couldn’t. 

Was he going to make a habit of this? Could she really stop him? She could tell the others. There’s no way they’d be happy with any arrangement that was against her will. She could use a command seal if push came to shove, but it’d be incredibly wasteful. 

“Hm, your heart rate has sped up considerably. I suppose it must be thrilling, having the King’s body pressed so tightly against yours,” he uttered smugly in her ear, sending unwelcome flutters to her belly and a shiver up her spine.

She held her tongue and said nothing in reply, hoping that he’d fall asleep before long. And by the way his breathing slowed, and his body slumped heavily against her back, it seemed he did. It was strange. She’d never fallen asleep next to someone like this before. Wrapped up in their arms. But despite the flip-flop between flutters and writhing knots in her stomach… it _was_ kind of nice. 

He was really warm. The weight of his body on hers was comforting, in a way. Like the heaviest kind of blanket. And she loved heavy blankets. But it still didn’t make sense. She wasn’t sure what brought… _this_ , out. But if all he demanded was some extra attention and her physical warmth now and then… it could be worse. 

It might not be _so_ bad.

  
  


When the light hit her eyes several hours later, she jerked her head and moaned softly. She rolled onto her stomach and huffed, determined to fall back to sleep. 

But when she was halfway there, fingers tickled between her shoulder blades. With a muffled grumpy noise, she pulled the covers higher to prevent the teasing fingers from reaching her. 

A soft, raspy chuckle followed, and she felt the fingers nudge their way under the covers. She shivered as they slid along her shoulder and between her shoulder blades again. Except this time they didn’t tickle so much as graze. Tracing shapes lightly in her skin. It sent shivers up her spine and she grunted, shifting onto her back and batting the hand away as she tried to cocoon herself. 

She felt the mattress shift next to her, and a hand untucked the blankets on her right. And slid across her belly slowly. With a muffled noise, she threw the covers down and whipped her head to Gilgamesh. He was underneath the blankets next to her, propped on his side with a lazy, feline smile. 

_Far_ too pleased with himself. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, grazing her stomach idly. “You look well rested.”

“It _would_ be a good morning, if you kept your hands to yourself and let me sleep,” she huffed, cheeks beginning to warm as she batted his hand away. 

Gilgamesh’s eyes narrowed, but his smirk remained. “No.”

“Fine, I’ll get up,” she groaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, then hunching over and hugging a pillow. “It’s a crime, how wonderful this bed is. Everyone should have a bed like this.”

The king snorted and sat up with her. “Common mongrels are unfit for such things.” 

Eris smirked in spite of herself and leaned over. “Oh? Then why am I here? Aren’t I a worthless, ungrateful, witless, wretched mongrel too?” 

Gilgamesh sniffed haughtily, eyes narrowed into slits, tilting his head and observing her a while before a smile slowly teased his mouth. “You’re less wretched, after a good night’s rest.” 

“Wow. Who _wouldn’t_ throw themselves at the King of Heroes, with charm like that?” she said wryly, pushing the covers off properly and getting out of bed. 

But before her feet could touch the thick, embroidered carpet, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back onto the bed. “... I didn’t give you permission to go, mongrel,” the king said huskily, a teasing glimmer in his eye as he loomed over her. 

Eris made a throaty, doubtful noise, curling her nose when he began to lower his face. “Fine. May I go please?” she asked hurriedly, willing her cheeks to not burn red when he stopped inches away from her face. 

“... no,” he said dryly, leaning some of his weight on her and casually pinning her on her back. 

“ _Please_?” she asked softly, eyeing his hand distrustfully as he began threading his fingers in her hair. 

Gilgamesh made a quiet, thoughtful noise, and scratched her scalp lightly. “Remember your place, little Master. And your King will continue to be generous.”

“Don’t want it,” she mumbled, squirming uncomfortably as she avoided his amused gaze. “Think some kinds of generosity are better spent on… someone else.” 

“We’ll see. That’s for your King to decide,” he shrugged, though the lazy feline smile made her stomach clench.

Eris snorted and shook her head, trying to nudge him off with her leg. “You’d think I’d have a say in it,” she said snippily, resting her head against his forearm when he refused to budge. “Come on.”

“I thought it was a wonderful bed. Why would my little Master want to leave?” he teased wryly, boldly leaning in to nuzzle her neck before throwing the covers back onto both of them. 

She sucked in a sharp breath and let out a muffled squeak, her toes curling tightly at the unexpected gesture. “What are you doing? I thought--”

“I’ve decided you can sleep in,” he said simply, stretching onto his side as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. 

“I wanted extra time with the bed, not _you_ ,” she muttered, squirming a bit when the king ignored her protests and casually wrapped himself around her from behind. 

“You don’t get the bed without your King,” Gilgamesh smirked, squeezing her waist with a smug, contented sigh, his eyes drifting shut. “Consider this incentive for your continued obedience.”

“Really? The King of Heroes is holding me hostage. Not exactly incentive,” she grumbled, rubbing her cheek against the pillow before resentfully settling in against him.

“Greedy little Master. Keeping the King warm isn’t enough? You want _more_?” he murmured in her ear, and she could hear the smirk on his lips. He hummed flirtatiously as his fingers slipped under her chemise, tickling her lower belly. 

“No no no no. _No_. That’s not what I’m saying. This is fine,” she said quickly, deftly pushing his hand away, eliciting a disappointed groan. 

“Mm. For now,” he sighed, his breath warm against her neck as he slipped into sleep.

“What do you mean ‘for now’?” she asked, panic beginning to bubble in her chest, despite a certain pulsing and throbbing that started in… other places.

“Are you deaf? Why must I always repeat myself?” he chided her sleepily, making an annoyed noise as he nuzzled her neck. “Your chattering bores me. _Sleep_.”

“I don’t want to,” she said sullenly, poking at his arm. “I’m not sleepy anymore.”

“Then stare at the wall. It matters little to me. But you are _not_ leaving,” Gilgamesh murmured warningly, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder with a quiet, contented noise. “I will not be deprived of your soft warmth.”

“Can’t you find someone else to… keep you warm?” she sputtered, her stomach doing somersaults at the gravel in his voice. 

“I don’t want anyone else.”

Her heart skipped several beats at the casual way the words dropped from his lips, and her stomach exploded into a thousand butterflies. “What?”

But the King didn’t bother to repeat himself, responding only with a low growl and an annoyed cluck of his tongue. He squeezed her waist tightly, as if in a silent warning before relaxing again.

Leaving her to stare at the wall, her heart pounding in her ears and her stomach fluttering desperately. 

... he didn't want anyone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (12/31/20) Couldn't quite stay away from Archer Gil, this is the last set of scenes that I had pre-written for him. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and have a Happy New Year!!


	4. Lost and Found (Solomon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She refused to live in a world where he didn't exist. She'd risk anything to have any shred of him back. 
> 
> So she made the gamble of a lifetime. But it didn't turn out the way she hoped. And as a clueless Solomon appeared, she was forced to face the truth. 
> 
> Romani was gone. And he was never coming back. 
> 
> (WARNING: ANGST. Cause Romani/Solomon.)

* * *

“Eris, stop! You can’t take it!” Da Vinci called out, his face twisted in panic and alarm. 

“This is our only chance. More!” she demanded, tears blurring her vision. Every nerve on fire. Pain taking over every other sense. “I can take it!” 

“Master, this could kill you! If you push any harder, your circuits may be rendered useless!” Merlin cried, eyebrows knitted together as he watched her stand in the summoning circle. 

“I DON’T CARE, MERLIN. DO IT!” Eris shouted, gritting her teeth and glaring at the runes as they began to light up. 

The mage closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “This won’t bring the outcome you seek,” he murmured to himself softly. “I’ve told you…” 

There was a hum of magic and electricity in the air. Suddenly a thick crackle of magic echoed in the room. The runes shone even brighter, and mana surged through her circuits, fast as lightning.

The pain was nothing like she’d ever experienced. Cold, impossibly cold and burning at the same time. There was no stopping the scream that escaped her lips. She shut her eyes tight, tears spilling down her cheeks as she held on for dear life. Focused on one thought. The thought that had driven her actions since that fateful day. 

Relentless. Unwavering. Determined. Tunnel-visioned.

To the very edge of madness.

“I won’t do it,” she whispered, half to herself, dazed as her consciousness tried to pull away from the pain. “I won’t accept a world where you don’t exist. Humanity still needs you. _I_ still need you…” 

“... it’s working!” Sherlock shouted, his voice a blend of concern and elation. “Just a little longer!” 

She didn’t have the strength to respond. It was a gamble. A crazy, foolish gamble. It might kill her. Might leave her a crippled mess. Maybe she’d simply disappear from existence. 

But that was fine. It was a price she’d always been willing to pay. He was worth trading places for. Who was she? No one. The world didn’t even know her name. Wouldn’t remember what she’d done. Didn’t know what she’d given. Over and over. Didn’t know that their existence had been on her shoulders. 

They didn’t need to know. She’d never expected anything. Never asked for anything in return. 

… until now.

The light became blinding and with a thunderous crack, the machines surged and overloaded. The smell of burning wires filled the air as the room went dark, and the emergency power lit the room dimly.

Eris panted heavily, gripping her right arm and pressing it to her chest. Every muscle in her body shivered and she moaned softly in pain. Then she heard a gentle rustle in front of her and opened her eyes slowly. 

Standing in the center of the summoning circle was a towering man. Long white hair curled and tufted down to the floor. Elegant, layered robes of black, white and red hugged his body. He stepped towards her and she saw the black tattoos running along his arm as he reached out to her. 

She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening and shaking her head unconsciously. 

“Rebooting now, trying to get us back online!” Da Vinci said loudly as Merlin rushed to his Master’s side. 

“... are you my Master?” Solomon asked gently, his voice husky and silky, eyebrows pulled together as his eyes roamed her face. But when she didn’t reply, he frowned slightly, looking around the Summoning Room. “What is this place?” 

She stifled a sob and shut her eyes, her legs finally giving way as she slumped to her knees. 

They had one shot. 

It was a gamble. 

It was always going to be a gamble. 

Was he back in the Throne? Was his spirit reset? Had she pulled him from somewhere else? Was this temporary or permanent? Did it matter?

_He didn’t know her. He didn’t know this place._

“... you’re not him,” she whispered, covering her face as she bent over, letting out a quiet sob. “You’re someone else.”

She’d saved humanity. Time and again. She had dozens of the world’s strongest Heroic Spirits at her side. Some of the most brilliant minds from every age. What couldn’t she do, if she only put enough time, effort and dedication? 

Because she couldn’t accept the simple truth. 

He was gone. 

And he was never coming back. 

The man who greeted her every morning with the barest, warmest smile. Who murmured words of encouragement when she was down. The brief, stolen touches between them. The eyes that lingered when he thought she wasn’t looking. Fingers that drifted on hers, just a little too long. A hand that swept the bangs from her face. The face that became a little brighter when she entered the room. The sweetest face. The shy, stammering way he spoke when they were alone. The words that teased his lips, forever hovering between them but never making it out.

She knew the things he wanted to say, but didn’t. Couldn’t.

She felt the same way. 

Why did he have to be such a coward? Why couldn’t he just say-- why hadn’t _she_ just--

Why did he have to leave, with so much left unspoken? 

“Master, are you alright? We nearly lost you,” Merlin said, crouching down next to her, tipping her chin so he could look at her searchingly. “How do you feel?”

“What’s happening?” Solomon asked softly, taking another step, worry written over his face as he watched them. Suddenly the lights came back on and Da Vinci ran towards them. 

“I told you it would be too much,” he chided gently, lips pursed tightly when Eris fell limp with a groan. Merlin instantly scooped her up in his arms and got to his feet. “Take her to the infirmary, I’ll be right there.”

The King of Mages ran his fingers through his hair, watching his Master carried away, and looked to Da Vinci quizzically. “Please, tell me. What’s happened here?”

Da Vinci turned to him with a sad, weary sigh, and motioned gracefully for him to follow. “It’s a long story, but I’ll do the best I can…” 

  
  


She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the infirmary for. She drifted in and out of sleep. Opening her eyes to see a different face each time. Smiling. Looking worried. Murmuring words she couldn’t quite hear. And then her eyelids would become heavy again. 

The sharp aching pain was eventually replaced by numbness. A beautiful feeling of nothing. She’d felt too much for too long. It was a welcome respite. 

When she finally woke up properly, she groaned softly and tried to wipe her eyes. She couldn’t. Her fingers barely moved. She sucked in a sharp breath as a slow sense of panic began to bubble in her chest.

“Your magic circuits were nearly destroyed. But they’re healing, thanks to everyone’s efforts. Feeling will return in time,” a low, silky voice said. She struggled to tilt her head and found herself staring into pale amber eyes. 

Solomon. 

A small smile on his face. A blurry mirror of a smile she once knew. Eyebrows pinched together as he observed her closely. She should’ve felt relieved. She should’ve felt vindicated after all the risks she took. All the rules she bent. 

Instead, she was crushed. 

Solomon inhaled slowly, looking down at the floor. “Da Vinci filled me in on what happened. How I… what I…” His words trailed off and he sighed, shaking his head before leaning forward and looking at her earnestly. “What you did, to try and bring me back. I’m sorry I don’t-- that I’m not-- after all you…”

“Did they figure out what happened? How’re you here? If you’re…” she whispered, her voice hoarse and impossibly dry. 

“Sherlock has several theories. My presence appears permanent, rather than temporary. But I… it’s unclear,” he replied quietly, quickly reaching for a glass of water and bringing it to her lips. 

She took a few small sips, sighing in relief, and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry…” 

“Why should you be sorry? You pushed yourself to the very brink, simply so I could exist. Is that not the greatest gift one could give another? That alone says all I would ever need to know about my Master,” Solomon smiled gently, shaking his head in disbelief, impulsively sweeping her bangs from her face.

She closed her eyes, her face contorting with sorrow as her eyes welled. “All you wanted was to be human, and now you’re a Heroic Spirit again. A weapon to be summoned, over and over. No life of your own. It was… stupid. Stupid and selfish. I just wanted...” 

“It’s done, Master. Humanity still needed me, you said. And so, I’m here,” he murmured, tucking her blankets a bit higher. “More water?” 

“Please,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Searching for something she recognized. Any shred of the man she’d silently loved for so long. But all she saw was a stranger. A beautiful stranger with a small, haunting smile.

He helped her to a few more sips, then squeezed her arm lightly. “You should rest. It will be some time before you are back to your full strength.”

“Mhm,” she nodded weakly, wishing that she had the ability to roll onto her side and face the wall. Anything to not be faced with the inescapable reminder of all she lost. Of all she could never get back.

“I’ll watch over you,” he said quietly, dimming the lights before he took a seat nearby. 

It was said so softly. Earnestly. Why did it pierce her chest so deeply? When would it stop hurting? Would it ever? 

With a shaky sigh, she closed her eyes, willing unconsciousness to embrace her again. So she could lose herself in the warm dark of nothingness.

  
  


A week and a half later, she was back on her feet. Almost. She could walk short distances with the help of a cane. But she had several areas of numbness, and couldn’t do much with her right hand still. 

She was back in her room, but Da Vinci ordered check-ups every couple days until she was better. Bedivere had insisted on accompanying her on her next trip. It was safe to say her Servants doted on her more than ever. She was never alone. There was always one or two to keep her company. Even Gilgamesh had come briefly. In which he opened several portals, dropping pillows, blankets, silk sheets and a fluffy mattress to replace her own. 

And proceeded to oversee Diarmuid and Bedivere as they rearranged her bed, while also informing his Master of how valuable and luxurious her new beddings were. And that he expected her to recuperate promptly, now that this foolish side venture was done with. The living needed tending to, not the dead.

It was almost nice, if it hadn’t been so imperious and biting. Almost.

“You’re doing well, Master,” Bedivere smiled encouragingly, delicately taking her right hand as she leaned on him. “Try again? Squeeze.”

Eris nodded and exhaled shakily, lips pursed with determination as she attempted to squeeze his hand. Her fingers slowly curled, but not enough to clasp his hand properly.

“That’s good! That’s very good, Master,” he beamed, wrapping his fingers around hers warmly. “That’s a bit more than yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her eyes going distant as they headed into the infirmary. They passed the waiting area and went directly into the exam room, when she froze in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. 

Da Vinci leaning over a computer screen behind a seated Solomon. His usually sweeping hair tied into a thick ponytail. And his flowing robes traded in for a white jacket and slacks. 

… what? 

“Ah, there you are. Let’s get you on the table,” the acting Director said with a warm smile when he heard them enter. “How are you feeling today?” 

Eris shrugged stupidly, eyes locked on Solomon as Bedivere lifted her onto the examining table. What was he doing, dressed up like that? It was almost… but not. It was strange. A distorted reflection. 

“Solomon has offered to help oversee the infirmary when he’s not being put in the field,” Da Vinci said delicately, lips tugging gently when the young Master nodded absent-mindedly. 

When Solomon began blushing, she realized she was staring. Her own cheeks turned pink and she cleared her throat, averting her gaze. Stupid. He wasn’t--

Da Vinci went through their usual routine. Cataloguing the progress of her returning sensations. Mobility. The rate her circuits were repairing. Solomon silently took notes, asking the odd question here and there, while Bedivere stoically stood beside her as moral support. 

Several minutes later, the Director inhaled deeply and smiled. “You’re progressing faster than we projected. This is excellent. I expect you should be back to yourself in another week or so. And it can’t come too soon.”

“No it can’t. Humanity needs saving. Again,” Eris chuckled ruefully, though there was a certain weariness in her eyes that she fought to mask. But the way Solomon’s lips pursed gently, and the strangely intent look on his face, she suspected he saw it. 

“We’ve done it before. We’ll do it again,” Da Vinci said confidently, squeezing the Master’s arm gently. “You should take the next week to relax. Why don’t we find a change of scenery for you? I’m sure a day or three at the beach might be just the thing to lift your spirits.”

“I’m fine, Da Vinci. I don’t need anything. Just wanna get back to it,” she smiled tightly, swinging her legs over the table and bracing Bedivere’s shoulders as he helped her to the floor. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll escort our Master back. I’d like to have a word,” Solomon interrupted quietly, and Bedivere nodded reluctantly in response, squeezing her arm gently before exiting. 

“Is everything alright?” Eris asked lightly, reaching for her cane as she walked out of the examination room. 

“I expect this must have come as a shock. I know I… _he_ , was Chaldea’s doctor. I thought perhaps if… I thought I could help. I hope you don’t mind,” he said, his words stilted as he tried to choose the right ones. Knowing the mine field he was blindly navigating. 

“You’re free to do as you like while you’re here. Please don’t worry about me. It was a shock but… well. I’m sure we’ll be safe in the hands of the King of Mages,” she continued casually, her focus split between staying on her feet and keeping a mask of friendly indifference on. 

“Master, can I… ask you something?” His voice was deeper than Romani’s. Smoother. Richer. But something in it made her heart twinge. As though it almost recognized something in it. Almost.

“Of course,” she smiled, though it was a bit too strained. Although she could wave it off as the energy and focus it took to walk without stumbling. 

“What was I… what was _he_ like? I can’t deny the idea of… what kind of human did I turn out to be?” There was so much hesitance in his words. But also a burning curiosity. A morbid fascination that he couldn’t seem to help. 

“A wonderful one. My favorite,” she murmured, mostly to herself with a melancholy smile. “Warm. Kind. Considerate. Attentive. Shy. Brilliant. He had a knack for putting everyone at ease. Making them comfortable. Making them smile. He wasn’t even trying. It was natural. Effortless.”

“I’m glad of that, at least,” he sighed quietly, a hand hovering near her, in case she tired. 

“The world grew dimmer without you,” she whispered, lips beginning to tremble as her emotions began to stick in her throat.

“May I ask another question?” His words were careful. So delicately placed. But she could hear that thread of curiosity. As though he couldn’t help himself. 

“Mhm,” she nodded, gripping her cane more tightly as she walked through the door to her room, gesturing for him to follow.

“Were we-- were you two…?” He stumbled over his words, clearing his throat and flushing slightly. It looked so strange on him. He towered over her. Carried himself with a presence and a grace that Romani never had. There was a power that radiated off him like slowly simmering heat. 

She shook her head slowly, eager to take a seat at the edge of her bed, and rest her stiff legs. “No. I wanted-- I knew that-- but… no. Nothing ever happened.” 

“Why?” he asked, pulling up her desk chair and sitting across from her, leaning his forearms on his knees. He was so… large. Was that right? Somehow he made the room look tiny by comparison. 

“Because you’re a coward. No… sorry. You’re not him. _He_ was a coward. And knowing… I didn’t-- I never… I should have. I should have,” she whispered, resting her cane next to her, as her left hand gripped her knee tightly. “I was a fool. I still am.”

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, sorrow and shame painting his hauntingly perfect features. “This is all my fault…”

“It’s not,” she smiled, patting his forearm even as her eyes welled.

“Isn’t it?” He laughed hollowly and leaned back, staring at her with an unreadable expression. “How is _all_ of this not my fault?”

“Why put that blame on yourself? You’re not Romani. You might not even be the same Solomon. You don’t remember anything. You have a fresh start,” she shrugged, fidgeting with her skirt and avoiding his silent, intense gaze.

“True…” he murmured to himself, a bare smile teasing his lips as he exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

“It’s okay. They’ve all gotten on my case about it. I never grieved. I never… I couldn’t accept what happened. But now… I have to, don’t I? We had one chance. It was always a gamble. And we succeeded, didn’t we? You’re here. What choice do I have but to accept it, and move on?” Her voice tremored but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay composed. “I just wish… I wish I could’ve said all the— I wish I could’ve said goodbye.“

“Perhaps one day, you could tell me those things. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious,” he admitted, his smile deepening ever so slightly. He really was breath-taking, wasn’t he? There was a knowingness behind his eyes. So much hiding behind them. “It was the one chance I had to… I can’t help but wonder.”

“No, I guess not. Maybe. One day,” she nodded slowly, finding herself caught in his gaze. And for a moment, her heart skipped several beats. There was something in the silent intensity of his gaze. A boldness she’d never seen in— but that smile. Small. Just the smallest bit crooked on the left. 

… it was the same. The same smile. 

Her breath hitched and she let out a gasp at the realisation, and he let out a soft, knowing chuckle. 

“I’m not him. But perhaps… he was _me_. Perhaps some things are still the same. I only hope it will be a good thing, and not a painful one,” he sighed, leaning forward to gently sweep the bangs off her face before he stood up. “I should let you rest.”

“Yeah… bit stiff. But it’s good. Need to keep at it. We have to get back out there. The fate of humanity won’t wait forever,” she quipped, clearing her throat and looking away at the warm expression on his face.

“You’re no common mage, regardless of what your records say. That much is clear from everything I’ve been told since I arrived. Anyone else would have broken long ago. But you remain. Unwavering. Pushing forward. Carrying the weight of humanity as if it was light as a feather. That is… extraordinary. I can see why, if I’d been human… well,” he stopped himself with a small smile, inhaling deeply as he turned for the door. “Perhaps you’d consider walking with me next time you’re up and about. I would like to know the Master who’s accomplished the impossible time and again better.”

“Mm. It would be— nice, to know who’d been hiding behind the mask, in a way,” she said thoughtfully, finally looking up at him with a shy smile. Her stomach fluttered when he mirrored it with a small smile of his own.

“I would like that. Yes. Perhaps you’ll discover that the King of Mages isn’t as cowardly as his human counterpart. Perhaps. Just a little.” His lips curved a smidge further, into a faint smirk as he bowed his head and left her room.

Once the doors closed, she exhaled shakily and fell back onto her bed, and stared up at the ceiling.

Romani was gone, and he was never coming back. But… Solomon lived. And so, some shred of Romani lived. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

Her mind replayed their conversation, and she thought of the King’s smile. The same smile. Her stomach fluttered and she felt the faintest pulse, deep inside. As though her heart had started beating again, after so long. 

No. She had no regrets. 

She’d do it all over again, if it meant he was still in the world. 

In _her_ world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/2/20) Ugh. I got punched repeatedly in the feels with this one. Thinking of adding a second part to this one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Shadow (Edmond Dantès)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn't sure when he began following her, or why. But everywhere she went, there he was. She couldn't quite understand it. She wasn't in any danger at Chaldea. 
> 
> ... or maybe she was. From _him_.

* * *

Edmond Dantès was one of the stranger additions to Eris’ dysfunctional family. He said almost nothing, and could never be found walking the halls of Chaldea. He didn’t socialize with the others, and rarely lingered in public places. 

Until his Master called for him. 

Then he materialised immediately. No matter where she was. It was alarming at first. Asking after his whereabouts, only for him to appear at her side. As if he’d always been there. As if he’d been haunting her footsteps. But she wasn’t able to give it much thought, as she faced a more pressing problem. 

Late night stowaways. 

She’d been woken up more than once to her blankets rustling as Kiyohime or Jack attempted to slip into bed beside her. More than once she jumped out of bed, hastily escorting her visitor back out. Vainly tried to explain that it was _not_ okay to break into her quarters. And as much as she appreciated the sentiment, they were _not_ welcome to be her nighttime companions, bed-warmers or _anything_ _else_. 

Then one night, it stopped. Out of nowhere. She wasn’t sure what had deterred them. But the nightly interruptions ended, and were replaced by something else. 

She wasn’t sure how to explain it. It was a feeling. The faintest presence. Ethereal and intangible. At first she wrote it off as her imagination. 

But then she began to think… maybe it wasn’t. 

Finally one night, she got the courage to test her budding theory out. After turning off the lights, she sat on the edge of her bed, and inhaled deeply. 

“... Count?” she asked softly, her heart seizing when he immediately stepped out of the shadows. He approached her casually, his face a blank mask.

“Oui, maîtresse?” he replied huskily, head tilted as he watched her closely. 

_Yes, Mistress._ She knew almost no French, but she’d become familiar with a few phrases. That one more than any other.

“... is it you I’ve been feeling lately? Have you been here at night?” she queried hesitantly, leaning back against her hands. 

His lips curved delicately on the right, and he bowed his head. “Ah, vous m’avez retrouvé.” _Ah, you’ve found me out._

Eris sighed and rubbed her cheek, making a confused noise. “Count, I don’t understand French.”

The Avenger made a quiet noise and nodded, bracing his elbows. “Je suis désolé, maîtresse. Yes, it was I.” _I’m sorry, mistress._

“Why?”

He tilted his head and stared at her blankly, not understanding the question. 

“I mean… are you here _all_ night?”

“Oui.” _Yes._

“ _Why_? I don’t need you to—“

“— if I am not, they will return. And Master made it clear she doesn’t want their company or nightly affection,” he said with a simple shrug, inhaling deeply.

“True,” she admitted with a reluctant sigh, squeezing the back of her neck. “Still, it’s… disconcerting. Knowing you’re here. Invisible. Watching.”

Dantès shrugged again indifferently, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I do what I must to keep Master safe.”

She’d always liked his voice. Raspy. Smokey. Breathy. His accent lilted and teased her ears, sending the faintest flutters through her. Always an edge of deadly intent in his tone. As though at any moment he might unleash the fires of hell. 

Because he might. 

“... and if I asked you to stop watching over me, would you?” Doubt hung in her words, and she couldn’t help the tiny smile that appeared when his brow furrowed disapprovingly. “Or would you just not answer me if I called out?”

Her question surprised him, and his eyes widened before he let out a raspy laugh, followed by a soft, throaty noise of amusement. “Ma maîtresse est intelligente,” he said wryly, his mouth spreading into a miserly smile. _My mistress is clever_. “I would not.”

Eris hummed, scrunching her nose and trying to look more annoyed than she was. She rubbed her cheek thoughtfully, unsure of what to do next. She couldn’t deny it felt invasive, knowing he would always be there. But she was also relieved to know he kept any others away. 

So she traded one nightly visitor for another.

“Can I ask you something else?” she asked ruefully, eyebrows knitting together gently.

“Oui.”

“I never see you around. But anytime I call, you’re there. Do you— are you following me?”

He inhaled slowly and deeply, the curve of his smile spreading. “... oui.”

“Why? You don’t need to. I’m not in any danger here. You can— don’t you want to do anything for yourself? Relax. Read. Enjoy your time off?” she said quizzically, slowly getting under the covers.

He tilted his head to the other side, brow furrowing. As if the concept was completely alien. “... non.”

“Have you even tried?” she chuckled, biting her lip and fighting off a smile when he began to frown.

“Non.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“ _Want_?” The Count turned his face away as his eyes grew distant. “What could I want?”

“I don’t know. It’s why I asked,” she sighed, lying down and wriggling under the covers with a contented noise.

He grunted in response, his frown deepening as he slowly turned her inquiry over in his mind. 

“Can I make a request?” she asked hopefully, rolling onto her side and facing him. 

“Bien sûr, maîtresse,” he bowed his head gently. _Of course, mistress._

“Can you stay like this, materialised, when you’re here? Pretty creepy otherwise. I mean… pretty creepy regardless, if I’m being honest. But it’s not as bad if I can at least see you,” she smiled, pulling the blankets over her shoulder.

Dantès exhaled audibly, nose curling in distaste as he stared at the wall. “... very well.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, closing her eyes slowly and trying to settle into sleep. 

But after a few minutes, she cracked an eye open and groaned to see Dantès staring at her blankly. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Simply stood like an immobile statue in the middle of her room.

“Okay, that’s not going to work,” she laughed tiredly, running her fingers through her hair. “Try sitting down? And maybe… don’t stare at me like that. Directly. At least until I’ve fallen asleep.”

He clicked his tongue with mild annoyance but obeyed, pulling her desk chair out and gracefully took a seat.

“Better. Maybe it would be good to consider picking up a quiet hobby, like reading or writing. Then you could entertain yourself while you’re here,” she suggested helpfully, pointing to the small bookshelf above her desk. “Don’t know if you’d like any of them. Fantasy and sci-fi are my favorite genres.”

He groaned softly and nodded, perusing the shelf before selecting a book and inspecting it.

“Okay. This is okay. Still creepy as hell if I think about it too much, but let’s not do that, right? You’re keeping the handsy one away,” she murmured, mostly to herself before curling over to face the wall. “This will be fine…”

  
  


Eris became more comfortable with her new nighttime companion as time passed. And in some ways, it seemed he was becoming more comfortable with her. They’d fallen into a rhythm as she unwound before bed, and he’d even gotten into the habit of taking off his hat and cloak before settling at her desk. 

“Count?” she asked, casually brushing her hair and staring at the data pad next to her on the bed.

“Oui, ma maîtresse?” he murmured, slowly turning the page of the book he was reading. Her desk had slowly become littered with books. Where or how he acquired them, she couldn’t be certain. But every night, there were a couple more.

“Was thinking I might bring you tomorrow instead of Cú,” she murmured, tying her hair back into a messy bun before picking up the tablet. 

He made a soft noise of assent, before a weary sigh left his lips as he watched her return to her report. He shut his book and walked over to her, gently but firmly taking the tablet out of her hand. “It’s past midnight.”

“Yes, but I—“

“— we have an early start, non?”

“Yes, but—“

“ _Maîtresse_.” His tone was firm and unyielding, as if chastising a child.

“... fine,” she groaned in defeat, getting under the covers and curling up onto her side. “Night, Dantès.”

“Bon rêves,” he replied softly, a faint smile on his face as he returned to his seat. 

_Sweet dreams._

  
  


It wasn’t long before people noticed a shift between Eris and the Avenger. Dantès was actually seen in the halls once in a while, following silently behind his Master, or lounging nearby wherever she happened to be. No one questioned it. No one wanted to. He was antisocial on the best of days. Silently vindictive at the worst. 

Eris had attempted to discourage him from haunting her shadow several times, but all she received was a confused and disapproving frown in response. So eventually she gave up. At least he kept her safe and unbothered. No Servant guarded their Master more closely or vigilantly. To a near oppressive degree. 

One evening, everyone slowly drifted in for their semi-regular movie night, and the chuckle-worthy battle of who sat next to the Master began. Or it would’ve, but Dantès found a solution to end those quibbles. He dragged one of the plush, oversized chairs and an ottoman to their viewing area, and stretched out casually. 

The Servants watched him with curious frowns, heads jerking as murmurs rippled between them. Had Dantès ever joined them before? Why now?

But when Eris walked in, drink in one hand and popcorn in the other, it was crystal clear. 

“Ici, maîtresse,” Dantès called out huskily, gesturing subtly with a finger. _Here, mistress._

“Mhm,” she nodded, lips twitching when Merlin and Kiyo sighed with disappointment. The Count shifted slightly as she sat down, half next to him with her legs dangling over his. “Alright! Ready when you guys are.”

When they got into the pirate adventure, Eris couldn’t help but notice some of the Servants stealing curious glances their way. She did her best to dismiss them, smiling to herself when Dantès’ hand drifted towards her bowl. He stretched his other arm out, munching and humming quietly when she leaned against him. 

As the movie progressed, it occurred to her how attentive the Avenger was. When she had her fill of popcorn, he silently took the bowl and put it to the side. When she was thirsty, he immediately leaned over and fetched her glass. And when she shivered, he threw a blanket over and tucked it around her.

… there were worse things than having the Vengeance Demon as her shadow. 

They finished the first movie and had a quick break before going into the second, at which point Merlin leaned over with a faint pout. 

“Master, won’t you consider—“

Dantès interrupted him with a hiss, cursing inaudibly under his breath. “— _Non_.”

The mage shrugged and groaned, leaning back against the couch. Marie sighed wistfully next to him, with sparkling eyes. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it? He wants to keep her all to himself. Ah…”

Eris’ eyes widened and she flushed, head jerking at the implication, particularly when Dantès’ cheeks tinged pink and he clicked his tongue with annoyance. It wasn’t true, was it? It wasn’t romantic. He was just overly protective, wasn’t he? He kept her safe. Kept her out of trouble. He took care of her. 

… hm. He did take care of her, didn’t he? Not at first. But slowly. It started with coffee every morning when she woke up. Then it was reminding her when reports were due. Forcing her to take breaks from the endless grind. Making sure she got enough rest. Had enough to eat. Wasn’t too warm or too cold. That she was as content and stress-free as possible in any situation. Because he was always at hand.

Holy crap. He was practically doting. 

How had she never noticed before? 

As they started the next movie, she slowly craned her neck towards him, peeking under his wide-brimmed hat curiously.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est, maîtresse?” he bent down and murmured quietly, sending a shiver up her spine. _What is it, mistress?_

She made a soft noise, her brow furrowing ruefully as she looked at him, his yellow eyes narrowing with amusement.

“... ah. Tu m’as retrouvé encore,” he whispered with a small, wry smile. _Ah, you found me out again._

She groaned and frowned, arching an eyebrow. “You know I don’t understand.”

He laughed huskily, barely audible over the sounds of spaceships battling. “We can talk later. Let’s watch the movie,” he said, ruffling the back of her hair gently as he returned his attention to the TV. 

Eris made a doubtful noise and gave him a wary side-eye before nestling against him. Unable to focus on anything but Marie’s words and Dantès’ tiny, knowing smirk.

  
  


When movie night ended and they returned to her room, she was feeling tense and awkward, stuck in an endless loop of questions. Why had he started following her in the first place? Was there more to his attentive behavior than being overprotective? And was it wrong that she didn’t find it creepy or overbearing? 

His presence had become something of a security blanket, if she was honest with herself. She never had to worry about anything if he was around, on _or_ off the field. It didn’t hurt that he was devilishly handsome. With a voice that sent slithering sensations up her spine. With the barest, faintest smile that sent butterflies straight to her belly. 

It didn’t hurt that his rarely seen smile seemed reserved only for her.

She watched as Dantès took off his hat and cloak, and rifled through the stacks of books on her desk. Keeping his back turned so she could change in peace. 

She inhaled slowly, chewing her lip as she walked to the dresser and rifled through her pajamas. Maybe she shouldn’t have thought about it too much. Now she was nervous and fluttery with him so close. She shook her head and huffed, trying to shrug it off as she got changed. 

But by the time she finished brushing her teeth and sat on the bed with a book, she found herself staring at Dantès doubtfully. 

He seemed aware of her intent gaze as a small smile curved his mouth. “... maîtresse.” 

“Mhm?”

He sighed quietly and turned to her, resting his elbow on the desk. “Her words affected you that deeply?”

“Well… kind of. I don’t know,” she shrugged, feeling her cheeks get hot when the smile turned into a smirk. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked huskily, leaving his book on the desk as he approached.

“Like I’m stupid for letting it affect me,” she muttered, tucking her legs underneath herself when he sat on the edge of the bed near her. “I mean… I see the looks they’ve been giving lately. Because you’re around so much.”

“Which is why I prefer to remain unseen,” he sighed, shaking his head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah, but then it’s _really_ weird,” she said reproachfully, inhaling sharply when his fingers lingered along her jaw. 

“Why?” Dantès tilted his head, frowning slightly. 

“Because… because it just is,” Eris laughed helplessly, squeezing the back of her neck. “I mean, then you really _are_ just stalking me. And it’s… I mean, it’s not normal, Dantès.”

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, inhaling slowly and deeply before offering a bare shrug. 

“You’re impossible to talk to,” she huffed, eyes dropping down to her hands with a groan. “You never get it.”

“Are you unhappy?” he asked after a silent pause. His eyes steady on her in a way that would’ve been uncomfortable from anyone but him.

“No, not at all,” she sighed, slumping against the wall with a rueful smile. 

“Then… where is the problem?” 

“There isn’t. It’s just… never mind.” Eris waved vaguely and shook her head, crawling under the covers and curling on her side. 

He watched her quietly for several beats before leaning over her with a hand. “Master.” 

“Mm.” 

“What is wrong? Why do you turn from me?” His voice was soft, almost tender. It made her stomach writhe and wriggle, in the most nerve-wracking way. 

But she couldn’t figure out what to say. How to explain the curiosity. The doubt. The _hope_. That maybe it was more than just a Servant protecting his Master. The fear that it was all in her head. 

She made an uncertain noise and shrugged. 

Dantès sighed, a bare smile curling his lips as he gently nudged her arm, coaxing her to look at him, which she did reluctantly. “You worry when there is no need.”

“Hm?” She bit her lip nervously, sucking in a sharp breath when he bent down and kissed her forehead. 

“Yes,” he confirmed, an unusual amount of warmth in his voice when his lips drifted to her cheek, kissing it lightly. 

“Oh,” she said breathlessly, flushing when he smiled. “I see.”

“Do you?” he asked wryly, eyes glimmering with amusement as he tilted her head and kissed her other cheek. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she nodded, swallowing hard when she realized his face was still hovering above hers. 

“Shall I stop?” he smirked devilishly, and her toes curled tight underneath the covers. 

Her brain froze momentarily, finding herself caught in his intense gaze. It was… mesmerizing. “Mm…” 

“Oui?” He slowly pulled away, but laughed huskily when she shook her head vigorously and clasped his arm. “Non?”

“No,” she whispered, cheeks flushed with a shy smile when he lowered himself again. 

Dantès hummed approvingly, tracing his thumb over her lips thoughtfully. “You wonder why I follow. Why I do not leave your side.”

“Mhm,” she nodded, a full body shiver running through her when his fingers trailed down her neck.

“You are a light in the darkness. A breath of fresh air amidst the poisonous fires that consume me,” he murmured, mostly to himself. The barest, twisted smile on his mouth. It was almost terrifying. Almost. And it made her stomach curl into several knots. 

“Dantès, I--” she whispered, but her words were interrupted when he pressed his lips to hers. She moaned against his mouth in surprise, but couldn’t help but kiss him back eagerly. Pulling on his shirt collar to bring him closer. 

He growled with approval, sliding a hand under her shoulder and digging his fingers into her soft flesh. She whimpered but didn’t stop him, wrapping her arms around his neck, reveling at the possessiveness in every kiss. Demanding more each time. Making his true hunger known, that he’d hidden for so long. 

It sent rippling shocks through her, but she couldn’t help wanting more. Couldn’t help the soft noises and mewling whimpers at the way he nibbled her lower lip, brushed his tongue against hers. Needing one more touch. One more taste. 

It was never enough. He could never quite sate himself. 

She wasn’t sure how long they were there for. His body pressed against hers, as close as he could possibly be, the weight of him pinning her down. Time fell away, and when he finally forced himself back with a frustrated hiss, she was left breathless and panting. Blinking stupidly as though she’d been knocked flat on her back by a barreling anvil to her chest.

“It’s late,” he finally managed to say, a near feral hunger glimmering in his eyes as his hand stroked her waist. “You should rest.”

Eris couldn’t help the soft whining noise that escaped her lips, blushing brightly when he laughed raspily and bent down to kiss her neck. 

“No. No more tonight. Sleep.”

“... _one_ more?” she murmured hopefully, squeezing his forearm and fighting off an impish smile. 

Dantès’ eyes narrowed with amusement, clicking his tongue and exhaling shakily as his hand drifted up to her neck. “Minette…” _Kitten._

“Please? I’ll go to bed after. Promise,” she grinned, licking her kiss-swollen lips as she tugged on his shirt gently. 

“Will you?” he asked doubtfully, slowly leaning against her with a predatory look in his eyes.

“Mhm.”

“... very well,” he sighed, unable to resist the small, crooked, doe-eyed smile on her face. He kissed her slowly and deeply, his need barely contained as he tried to draw out and savour the moment. It didn’t help that she slid her fingers through his hair, silently encouraging him to continue. 

But he resisted, huffing as he dropped a final kiss lightly on her lips. “Enough. You need to rest.” 

Eris groaned and nodded sheepishly, biting her lip and smiling as he tucked her into bed, and pressed his lips to her temple. 

“Bon rêves, maîtresse,” he murmured, taking a last lingering look before getting up and returning to his seat. 

“Oh they will be,” she said cheekily, rolling onto her side and facing the wall. She couldn’t help but grin when he laughed raspily in surprise, making a throaty noise of amusement as he picked up his book and began to read. Her stomach fluttered madly as she tried to settle, eventually drifting off to the sound of pages softly turning. 

She slept more deeply than she had in a long time. No matter what lay ahead, what dangers they might face, the Count would be there. 

He would _always_ be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/4/21) There are so few fics with Edmond, can't help wanting more. He's another character who'll probably get at least one or two more stories here.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Also hoping the French is accurate. It's been a very long time since I've spoken/written it >.>


	6. Stars (Ozymandias)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in Chaldeas knew that the young Master was holding a torch for the handsome, gregarious Sun-King.
> 
> Everyone but the Sun-King himself.
> 
> It wasn't until she lost hope that fortune began to favour her. A little _too_ much for Ozymandias' liking. Maybe she wasn't so invisible after all?

* * *

Pretty well everyone knew that Eris held a torch for the King of Kings when he first arrived, no matter how hard she tried to keep it to herself. She couldn’t hide the twinkle in her eyes whenever he entered the room. Couldn’t stop the pleased flush when he smiled broadly at her. Couldn’t help but squirm when he tickled the underside of her chin teasingly. 

It seemed the only person unaware of it was Ozymandias himself. 

Anytime one of the others hinted at the true nature of her feelings, he’d wave it off with a lofty smile. Saying such behavior was perfectly natural. That it merely reflected what a worthy and devoted retainer she was. That it was hardly surprising she might find him pleasant to look at. He was devastatingly handsome, wasn’t he? Most women (and more than a few men) had looked at him with stars in their eyes over the years. Why would his Master be any different?

As the weeks and months passed, it was clear the warmth and affection he gave was blatantly familial. He treated her like a little sister. Doting and overprotective, but nothing more. It frustrated her to no end, often leaving her grumpy and brooding. It didn’t help that he dropped compliments so easily for some of the other girls. 

She alternated between giving up and trying to enjoy his company for what it was, to pulling away and distancing herself. Because she couldn’t stop the flutter whenever he smiled at her. Because it wasn’t the kind of smile she really wanted. And she couldn’t seem to quell her feelings, no matter what she did. She loved and hated how easily he disarmed her. Just a glimmer in his eye, his warm, smug chuckle, a casual squeeze of her hand, a gentle murmur as he tried to lift her spirits. That was all it took. 

And she was back at square one.

She never imagined that one day the tables would turn.

How could they?

She felt laughably mousey in comparison to the other girls. She was too short. She lacked the innate feminine charms that some of her female Servants possessed. She felt unrefined and green around the gills. She’d never cared about her looks before, and she wasn’t sure it would even make a difference. She had no idea what it’d take to turn the Sun-King’s head. 

And even if she wanted to try, when would she have the time? Every waking moment was spent on making progress towards humanity’s salvation. Battling enemies and farming for materials to ascend and level up her growing roster of Heroic Spirits. She’d run herself ragged, trying to juggle her duties.

Gilgamesh chided her relentlessly for her unkempt and altogether unprofessional appearance. Despite the fact that he _also_ breathed down her neck about not making progress quickly enough. She shouldn’t have let him get to her. Logically, she knew that. But she finally hit her breaking point when he chastised her in front of Ozymandias.

They were walking down a gravel road in comfortable silence, when Gilgamesh suddenly shook his head and snorted. “I see you still haven’t followed my instructions to get more sleep. That’s the fifth time you’ve yawned in an hour,” he said snippily, curling his nose with disapproval. 

“I ended up farming later than expected,” she replied tiredly, in no mood to deal with his overbearing attitude. “I’ll go to bed earlier tonight.”

“You’ve said that every night for the last two weeks, and those bags under your eyes are worse than ever. You’re useless in battle in this state,” he gestured sharply, clicking his tongue as he picked at her slightly wrinkled jacket. “One can hardly expect much from someone as _plain_ as yourself, but you could at least _try_. Do you have no pride at all?”

“Could you just _not_ , for once?” she snapped, bristling as she avoided Ozy’s sympathetic gaze. “Can I just have _one_ day where you don’t nitpick me to death?”

“If you started listening to your King, that might be possible,” Gilgamesh sneered, crossing his arms over his puffed up chest. “As it is, you are _still_ unfit to call yourself my Master.”

“ _I_ think Senpai is pretty,” Mash said softly with a shy smile. “If she has bags under her eyes, it just shows how hard she works, for all of us.” 

“Her work ethic _is_ commendable,” the Sun-King smiled generously, tilting his head as he observed Eris a bit more closely. “You should be more forgiving, King. She’s still young. She has potential to bloom yet.”

“Potential,” Gilgamesh snorted, smirking at the way his Master scowled at him. “To what, be _slightly_ less plain? You’ve seen true beauty. She is worlds away from such lofty ambitions.”

“Who said it’s even an ambition? What have my looks got to do with anything? _You_ said I should focus on being a better Master, and that’s _exactly_ what I’ve been doing,” she grunted, crossing her arms over her chest and looking positively irritable. 

“Not to the detriment of everything else, you fool,” he groaned, rolling his eyes and scratching the back of his head. “How can you care for any of your Servants when you don’t even care for yourself?”

“That’s rich, coming from you. You who _only_ cares about himself, to the detriment of everything and everyone else,” she scoffed, exchanging disapproving glares with the King of Heroes. 

“Do you see? This is what I’m talking about! Her company used to be tolerable, even pleasant on occasion. And now… _this_!” Gilgamesh barked, gesturing vaguely to Eris. “When she’s not working herself to the bone, she’s grumpy and miserable. And it’s affecting everyone else.”

“I’m only grumpy and miserable around _you_ , my King, because you’re impossible to deal with,” Eris muttered, scrunching her nose and giving him a reproachful look, which only made him roll his eyes.

“Gil, you must admit, you’re rather hard on the poor girl,” Ozy interceded with a wry smile as he patted Eris’ head lightly. “She would do better with some room to breathe.”

“She would do better to get her head out of the clouds and stop feeling sorry for herself,” Gilgamesh scoffed, giving her a harsh, knowing side-eye.

“I am _not_ feeling sorry for myself,” she replied slowly through gritted teeth, feeling her cheeks start to burn as she once again avoided the Sun-King’s curious gaze.

“Yes, you _are_ . You have been for months,” the King of Heroes growled, pointing a finger meaningfully. “If you would set your sights so high, then you should do what you must to make yourself _worthy_ of such attention. And if you lack the will or courage to even _try_ , which is all you’ve demonstrated up to now, then you’d do best to give up those foolish fancies once and for all.”

“Do _not_ , my King. Do _not_ go there right now,” she warned, her eyes turning into narrow slits, hands clenched into fists. “You are the _last_ person I want to take advice from when it comes to… _that_.”

“Another example of how witless you are. I am the _first_ person you should go to, in _all_ things,” Gilgamesh said haughtily, shaking his head with disappointment.

Ozymandias scratched the back of his head, frowning as he watched the two of them argue. “It seems I’m missing some key context here. What are you two--”

“-- you’re joking! You _must_ be joking. _All_ things? You expect me to come to you, when all you do is chastise and condescend. And then-- things like _that_?! If I’m unfit to be your Master, you are most certainly unfit to be my confidante,” Eris laughed derisively, feeling a bit of smug satisfaction when the King of Heroes scowled in response.

“I thought _I_ was your confidante,” the Sun-King said with a confused frown, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. “Has something been bothering you, little Master? Why wouldn’t you come to me if--”

“-- I’ll tell you why, it’s because--” Gilgamesh started, only to smirk when Eris ran in front of him, gesturing desperately and shaking her head.

“-- don’t. Please. _Please_ , my King,” Eris said hoarsely, her eyes beginning to glisten despite herself, making Gil’s features soften resentfully. “Tell me you’re not actually that cruel. Please, drop it.”

He watched her silently for a few beats, a thoughtful but disapproving expression carved on his face. “Will you listen to your King?” he finally huffed, his hands unclenching at her trembling lips.

She nodded mutely, ignoring Ozy’s confused _tch_ at being left out of the loop.

“... very well. I’ll say no more about it,” Gilgamesh sighed imperiously, dismissing her with a wave. “We can discuss it later.”

Eris made a face but nodded quickly when the King’s lips began to curl downwards again. “Yeah, sure. Later.”

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, though she caught the Sun-King giving her several curious, frowning side glances. And while he didn’t bring it up that day, it seemed he couldn’t quite let the mystery go.

  
  


Late the next afternoon, Eris was stretched out on the couch, doing some research, when Ozy stalked in and unceremoniously scooped her up in his arms. She yelped in surprise, clutching the tablet to her chest as she furrowed her brow at him. 

“Um… hello? Pharaoh, what are you doing?” she laughed nervously, fidgeting her feet when Servants paused in the hallway to stare at them quizzically. 

“There is something we need to discuss privately,” he said placidly, as though carrying his Master around was perfectly commonplace. Which it wasn’t. 

“I can walk, you know,” she said ruefully, though she didn’t protest too hard. Even if she should’ve. Damn her weakness. She was putty in his hands, every time. At least he never noticed. That was a small comfort.

“With those little legs? It would’ve taken twice as long,” he laughed warmly, shaking his head with amusement as he carried her to his room. 

Once inside, he set her on the edge of the bed, and pulled up a chair to sit across from her. “So. Now that it’s just the two of us, tell your Pharaoh what’s been bothering you,” he smiled expectantly, leaning forward on his elbows. 

“What? Nothing. I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” she chuckled, a little too nervously as her cheeks began to tinge pink.

“You’d insult the Pharaoh’s intelligence?” he frowned with disappointment, his voice laced with gentle reproach. “If there’s something troubling you, you know I will always listen and offer advice.”

Eris groaned and hugged herself slowly, scrunching her nose and shaking her head. “Not something you can help with.” 

He jerked his head at that, his frown deepening as he sat up straight. “There’s nothing the King of Kings can’t help with.”

“ _Some_ things. Once in a while,” she said reluctantly, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to say that would get him off the subject. “It’s… girl stuff.” 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing you could say would put me off,” he replied, rubbing his knee and smiling broadly. She hated the way his smile lit up a room. How it made her heart skip several beats. “After all, I spent my life surrounded by women. And don’t forget, I was happily married. You can tell me. Your Pharaoh never judges needlessly.”

Her jaw dropped and her face immediately went beet red, scrambling for an appropriate reply. “What? No! It’s not-- I just-- I can’t. It’s… private. Personal. Really personal. Too personal.”

“You’d discuss it with Gilgamesh, and not me?” There was no disguising the indignance in his voice. With the faintest trace of hurt. But that was all it took to gut-punch her emotions. “I thought you and I were closer than that. But it seems I was… mistaken?”

Eris hugged herself tighter and hunched over a bit with a pained, guilty groan. “No, we are. Sort of. At least worlds closer than I am with Gilgamesh, _obviously_. It’s just…” 

He relaxed instantly at the confirmation, a broad smile stretching his lips again. “You’re embarrassed to discuss romantic matters with me? It wasn’t difficult to infer from your argument yesterday. You shouldn’t be, little Master. You should’ve come to me first. I don’t think Gilgamesh has any true experience with such things.”

“Oh he _doesn’t_ ,” she scoffed, rubbing her temple firmly. “But you know how he is.”

“Yes, a dog with a bone. And while I’m often entertained by that trait, I’ve spoken to him more than once about how he treats you,” he sighed, leaning over and squeezing her shoulder meaningfully. “Perhaps if you talk to me about this romantic quandary, I can tell him we’ve already spoken and there’s no need to intercede.”

A nauseating wave of vertigo washed over her and Eris covered her face with her hands. “Oh god. No. _No_. That would make it… just… so much worse. Please don’t.”

The Sun-King made a frustrated noise and scratched the back of his head. “How would that make it worse? I’m trying to shield you from him, why would you stop me?”

“Pharaoh, I really don’t want to talk about this. Can’t we drop it and do something else? Why don’t we have dinner? Or play a game of chess so you can beat me horribly?” she suggested hopefully, looking crestfallen when his expression became stern and serious. 

“No. As my retainer, it’s my duty and pleasure to assist you in all matters, great or small. Out with it. I gathered you’re harbouring romantic interest for someone. What’s the problem? I can only assume it’s one of the Servants. Do you worry about a conflict of interest? Or perhaps you chastise yourself, believing it’s unnatural? It’s _perfectly_ natural, given how closely you’ve bonded with them. I’m sure such interest is reciprocated,” he smiled, gently coaxing her hands down and tipping her chin up to face him with warm eyes.

It felt like a large boulder rolling around in her stomach. Slowly grinding against her insides painfully. All she managed was a hollow laugh as she shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yeah… no. It’s not. I know it’s not.”

“You made your interest known and they rejected you? Ridiculous!” he shouted, looking offended for her, his hands curling into fists. “None of them are even worthy of consideration. It’s a damned fool that would reject you. And if he has, I say waste no time or tears on it. There are plenty of others who would be only too happy to embrace you.”

She groaned and gestured vaguely, curling her toes unconsciously. “You have to say that because you’re my Pharaoh. It’s a gross exaggeration.”

“Are you accusing your Pharaoh of lying? Most girls are lucky to have even _one_ of the many qualities you possess. No, I won’t listen to such foolishness. I won’t allow you to sell yourself short,” he said sternly, quickly holding up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You are hard-working, brave, loyal, open, honest, kind, gentle and sweet. What you lack in confidence and self-care, you certainly make up for in other areas.”

She couldn’t stop the short, choking laugh that caught in her throat, feeling the bottom drop out from under her. “Ha. ‘Self-care’. Nice way of saying-- like I could expect any less. A king’s standards are impossibly high.”

“So should yours be! You are my beloved retainer. I would never allow you to enter into a union with a man who didn’t prove his worth,” he scoffed haughtily, puffing his chest as he crossed over his arms, oblivious to the wound bleeding behind her trembling lips. 

She forced a smile, as his words continued to pierce her. “I’m sure you wouldn’t, Pharaoh.”

“Don’t take the King’s words to heart. It may not seem like it, but he _does_ mean well. He made a good point about how much you’ve neglected your own well-being. It’s no wonder your mood has fluctuated as much as it has the last few months. You cannot forget: it’s important to put as much care into yourself as you do in others.” Ozy’s tone was gentle but reproachful, smiling as he brushed his thumb against her cheek, making her blush brightly. 

“Yes, Pharaoh,” was all she managed to mutter, digging her fingers into her waist roughly. 

“I want you going to bed earlier and getting a proper night’s rest. And I want you to start taking better care of yourself. We can’t have anyone thinking I’m allowing my precious Master to wilt before she’s even bloomed. You’ll feel better for it, I promise. You may not listen to the King of Heroes, but you’ll listen to your Pharaoh, won’t you?” The Sun-King’s smile widened when she nodded meekly, frowning when he attempted to pinch her cheek. “Hm. Perhaps eat a bit more too. Your face has slimmed too much.” 

“Yes, Pharaoh,” Eris sighed, offering a tired smile, getting to her feet.

“Good girl,” he said with a satisfied huff, patting her bum lightly as she started for the door. 

She flinched for a second, but shook her head and squeezed the back of her neck as she rushed down the hallway. 

Time to hide in her room and curl up into a ball from mortification. 

She felt queasy from how hard her stomach had knotted up. But at least he didn’t have a clue. At least he had no idea how incredibly uncomfortable that was for her. She couldn’t bear to see the pity painting his face. 

She power-walked straight to her room and flopped onto the bed, groaning into her pillow. She knew she’d been struggling to juggle her duties as the last Master, but she thought she’d been doing okay. She assumed that Gilgamesh’s complaints were just part of his usual haughtiness. Sure, she was borderline exhausted. Yeah, maybe between that, the mounting pressure, and her unrequited crush, she’d been a bit moody. Sure, she might’ve let herself go a bit under all of the stress. But she didn’t think it was so bad that even Ozy noticed. 

The jovial Pharaoh who she was all but invisible to. 

With another long groan, she turned her head to the side and stared blankly at the door. “Ugh. I hate that Gil had a point. But I guess he does. Self-care. _Right_. I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I can ask one of the girls.” 

The real question was, which one?

In the end, she approached Da Vinci for advice. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, and she really didn’t want to hear any ‘I told you so’s’. Because maybe, _maybe_ Gilgamesh and Ozymandias weren’t the first ones to comment about her moods lately. Or her patchy skin. Her bird’s nest of a messy bun. The bags under her eyes. Her dependency on coffee. Her chapped lips. The crinkled, sometimes crooked state of her uniform. The bad habit she developed of chewing her nails as her stress intensified. 

A few of the girls had gently and very delicately implied she’d been letting herself go. And it wasn’t just affecting her mood or her appearance. If she kept burning the candle at both ends, it would start affecting her health. Her performance as a Master. Gilgamesh and Ozymandias were really just the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

When she snuck into Da Vinci’s office a few days later, the flawless inventor was only too happy to offer some discreet, confidential advice.

“This is going to be fun!” Da Vinci beamed, clapping his hands as he prompted Eris to stand up, circling around her with interest. “It’ll be work, mind you. I don’t want to criticize too harshly, but you _have_ been woefully neglectful of yourself.”

“So everyone’s telling me,” the young Master sighed tirely, scrunching her nose sheepishly as Da Vinci picked up his tablet and started taking notes. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll start small and build from there. We’ll make a masterpiece of you yet,” Da Vinci quipped confidently.

“Don’t need to be a masterpiece. Just want to be less stressed. Have more energy. I don’t want my moods affecting everyone. I just… want to feel good about myself again. This has all been… a lot.” The last words left her lips shakily as she hugged herself, avoiding the inventor's sympathetic stare.

“Of course it has, how could it not? That’s why it’s so important to make time for yourself. True beauty is about confidence, and that starts from within,” Da Vinci said with a wise smile, patting her cheek affectionately. “You must believe you’re worth the time and effort. After all, if you don’t, how could anyone else?”

There was something in the sly, knowing glimmer in Da Vinci’s eyes that made Eris groan embarrassedly. “Oh god. You too?”

“The only person who _hasn’t_ seen the stars in your eyes is the Sun-King himself. Funny, really,” Da Vinci sighed with amusement, waving the Master’s blush dismissively. “But this isn’t about him. It’s not about anyone else. It’s about the desire and commitment to be your best self, for yourself. Admiration is merely a natural and pleasant by-product of the time and effort you put in.”

“This is sounding a lot more like therapy than self-care tips,” Eris said wryly, reluctantly offering the artist a smile when he laughed warmly. 

“Ah, but it’s all the same, isn’t it? I’ve sent a schedule to your tablet, and I want you to follow it. It includes one day off a week. No more farming late into the night and getting up at the crack of dawn. _No excuses_. I’ll drop by later with the other essentials you’ll need. For now, let’s take your measurements. My guess is you’ve some grown womanly curves in the last year, but it’s so difficult to tell when your uniform fits so poorly.” Da Vinci clucked his tongue disappointedly, before pulling out a measuring tape with an impish grin. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Eris made a teasing, doubtful noise before nodding, dutifully holding her arms out. “Of course. Time to see if the legendary artist still has it, after all this time.”

“ _Ha_! Is that a dare? If you do your part, mine will be laughably easy,” Da Vinci said smugly, speedily taking way more measurements than she thought was necessary, and adding notes in his tablet. 

“We’ll see, I think you’re having a bit too much fun with this,” she pointed out with a small smirk, although she couldn’t deny the conversation had started to light a fire under her. 

“Just you wait, you’ll be having fun too. Eventually,” Da Vinci smiled knowingly, holding her chin with a satisfied sigh as the artistic possibilities flew about in his mind. 

  
  


Da Vinci’s schedule eventually became second nature. What’s more, she began to see results much more quickly than she’d thought. She was feeling calmer, she had more energy, she could focus more easily. It seemed so silly, looking back. Something as simple as getting enough sleep, taking regular time off. Keeping an hour every morning and evening, so she could pamper herself and freshen up for the day, or wind down from the inevitable stress. She even had the time to pick up reading again.

There was a shift in the air around Chaldea as the weeks went by, imperceptible at first. Something was different about the young Master, and people couldn’t help but take notice. 

Particularly the opposite sex.

It was Eris’ day off, and she was stretched out on the couch in the Recreation Room, nose deep into a new fantasy story when she felt her feet being lifted. She lowered the book and frowned curiously to see Merlin place them on his lap as leaned towards her. 

“Master, when will you be taking me out again? It’s been such a long time, I can’t help but feel neglected,” he said with a mildly flirtatious pout, squeezing her ankles gently. 

She laughed shortly and raised the book to her eyes, shaking her head. “Merlin, I took you out a few days ago. That’s not that long, given our growing roster.” 

“I don’t know, feels like a terribly long time to be away from my fair Master,” he sighed, idly massaging her ankles. 

She rolled her eyes and smirked behind her book, turning the page with a quiet huff. “ _Please_. There are plenty of other girls to flirt with when I’m gone. Don’t pretend you pine in my absence.”

“Master, what are you implying?” he gasped, a twinkle in his eye as he fought an impish smile.

“I’m not implying, I’m stating. You’re a horrible flirt. I’m not the only one who’s gifted your morning flowers,” she said absent-mindedly, briefly gesturing to the large pink bloom tucked into the side of her long braid. 

“Ah, does my Master want them all to herself? You only need to ask,” he teased, gently lowering her book as he tilted his head and observed her more closely. “Have you done something new with your hair?”

“Hm? Got a haircut last week. Hair’s too long though now, thought I’d try a new braided style. You like it?” she shrugged, scrunching her nose and flushing when the Caster’s smile spread.

“Very much,” he sighed contentedly, pausing to frown as he leaned in closer, making her grunt and nudge his leg with her foot. “Are you wearing perfume? There’s a… hm. It’s faint, but sweet. Tantalizing.”

“No. Maybe it’s the new shampoo I’m trying out?” she replied hesitantly, groaning at the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “No, you can’t come over here and smell it.”

“Is Merlin pestering you again?” Emiya sighed, shaking his head as a bare smirk teased his lips, plate in hand as he approached.

“Yes,” she quipped dryly, tilting her head and perking up when he carefully laid the perfectly formed rice balls in her lap. “For me? That’s so thoughtful, thank you.”

He shrugged casually, nudging the Caster’s leg with his foot sharply, and jerking his head. “Go on, let our Master enjoy her day off without you bothering her.”

Merlin made a face at the Archer before reluctantly getting up, tickling her neck as he passed by. “Take me with you tomorrow?”

“Yes, Merlin,” she sighed, batting his hand away as she blindly reached for a rice ball, returning her attention to her book. 

Emiya took the Caster’s place, casually putting her feet in his lap as he reached for a rice ball and turned on the TV. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as he caught up on his latest anime, but after a while he sniffed the air and turned to her curiously. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“What? No. New shampoo,” she frowned, not bothering to lower her book. 

“Hm. It’s nice,” he commented, inhaling deeply before going back to the TV. 

She felt her insides squirm at the thoughtless compliment, raising her book a bit higher to hide the growing flush in her cheeks. “... thanks.”

But Eris’ peace was short-lived when Lancer Cú plopped onto a floor pillow beside her. “Enjoying your day off?” he asked with a smile, tickling her cheek as he tried to peer at the book she was reading.

“Trying to,” she said wryly, patting his hair absent-mindedly when he took the plate and rested his head in her lap.

Emiya huffed quietly with annoyance when Cú grabbed one and began snacking. “Something different about you lately, Master,” the Lancer commented thoughtfully, tilting her chin so she’d look at him.

“Oh?” she said lightly, fighting off a smile at the thoughtful, throaty noise it elicited. 

“Mhm. There’s a… glow about you. You’re getting prettier every day,” he replied, a slow grin stretching his lips when her cheeks began flushing. 

She made an embarrassed noise, squirming slightly in her seat as she attempted to move the book closer to her and block out Cú's face. “Probably just the new skin stuff Da Vinci gave me.”

“Maybe,” he murmured doubtfully, playfully taking her book and tucking it beside him. 

“Hey, I was reading that,” she frowned, bending over the couch to grab it when he quickly placed it on his other side. “Come on.”

“No, it’s not reading time. It’s snack and chat with Cú time,” he grinned, lifting one of the rice balls and hovering it near her mouth. 

Eris groaned and rolled her eyes, watching him warily before taking a reluctant bite. But before he could respond with another flirtatious quip, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching quickly. 

“What’s this?” Ozymandias demanded, arms crossed over his chest and taking in the scene before him with a disapproving frown. Cú casually trying to feed his Master as his head rested in her lap. “Get off her at once!”

Cú groaned and rolled his eyes, waving dismissively as he took a bite of the rice ball. “Nothing’s happening. We’re just having a snack.”

“And it requires your head in her lap?” the Pharaoh huffed, looking agitated as he also noticed Eris’ legs dangling over Emiya’s. 

“Course not, that’s just a bonus,” the Lancer grinned like a Cheshire cat, making a disappointed noise when Ozy snorted derisively and stepped past him to scoop his young Master in his arms. 

“Our Master is not your pillow. I’m stopping this before you forget your place further,” Ozy growled, turning on his heel and carrying Eris out. 

“Wait a minute, my book!” she called out, squirming out of embarrassment. “Pharaoh, put me down, please. Nothing was going on.”

“Not _yet_. I saw the look in his eyes,” the Rider muttered, snorting with annoyance as he walked down the hall. 

“Where are you taking me? Honestly, I can walk,” she asked, trying to squirm out of his grasp and letting out a frustrated sigh when he tightened his hold. 

“Something strange has been happening the last few weeks. The men hover around you like bees hungering for pollen,” he muttered, his eyes distant as he frowned thoughtfully. “They’re becoming far too forward. I don’t like it.”

“No they aren’t, you’re just being overprotective. It’s fine. I’m fine,” she protested, again trying to twist out of his grasp. Again, his grip was ironclad.

“It is _not_ fine. They’re acting bewitched. I wonder if someone cast a spell,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with annoyance.

“No one cast a spell. You’re being paranoid,” she groaned, poking his chest a few times. “Seriously, where are you taking me?” 

“My quarters. You can read in peace and I won’t have to worry about them nipping at your heels,” he said matter-of-factly, which only made her grunt. 

“Can’t read, you left my book behind,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was fine back there. You can’t keep doing this, Ozy. It’s becoming suffocating. Snatching me up and keeping me away from everyone.”

“Not everyone. Just the men,” he argued irritably, pursing his lips and looking at her with a curious frown. “Perhaps it’s that new perfume you started wearing. Who gave it to you? Perhaps it’s been enchanted.” 

“I’m not wearing perfume!” she exclaimed with a frustrated laugh, smoothing a hand along her hair. “I’ve told you.” 

“It’s _some_ scent you’re wearing. I can smell it. It’s encouraging them to come closer. _Too_ close,” he countered, leaning his head down and taking a whiff. “Yes. Like a faint, ocean breeze. It’s too alluring.”

“Probably just my new shampoo,” she argued, beginning to go limp in defeat. “You’re making a fuss over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” the Pharaoh said snippily, finally letting her down once he entered his room. “It’s attracting too much attention.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the first time I’ve attracted _any_ attention since I’ve been here,” she laughed, her stomach twisting when he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned disapprovingly. “Sorry if I’m enjoying it. It’s been kinda nice, not being invisible.”

“You’ve never been invisible,” he huffed, tilting his head and observing her closely from head to toe.

“Yeah right,” she rolled her eyes, straightening her jacket distractedly. “Weren’t you the one that prompted me to take better care of myself?”

Ozy growled quietly, his hands clenching into loose fists. “Yes, but I didn’t mean--” 

“-- didn’t mean what? Clean up, just not _too_ well?” she asked shrewdly, clicking her tongue with annoyance as her cheeks began to burn. 

Why was he being like this? It was bad enough she had stars in her eyes while he looked right through her. For the first time, she was receiving a bit of attention. And sure, it wasn’t from the one person she wanted, but maybe that wasn’t so bad. Maybe she was better off setting her sights on someone who actually saw her as more than a little girl who needed to be kept in a bubble. It only left her more and more frustrated with the Pharaoh. 

The constant reminder that no matter what she did, that was all he’d ever see her as. 

“Of course not. You’re a beautiful, young woman. And that’s why--”

“-- am I? That’s shocking to hear,” she laughed hollowly, bracing her elbows and scrunching her nose at the door. 

“Why? You are. You’ve always been,” he said plainly with a confused frown, taking a step closer. “Did you believe I didn’t think so?” 

“I believe you never thought about it at all,” she sighed, running a hand along her braid and shaking her head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m not a little girl. You don’t need to protect me.”

Ozy’s head jerked, and he barely masked the hurt in his eyes as his arms slowly fell to his side. “Of course, I don’t need to. I simply wanted--”

“-- you can’t keep stealing me and cloistering me away, Pharaoh. It’s not fair,” she said reproachfully, making a soft, guilty noise when he sighed sadly.

“I’m not doing the stealing, _they_ are,” he muttered sullenly, shaking his head as he looked at her with a frown that was surprisingly close to a pout. “They take up more and more of your time, while you make less and less for me.”

Eris groaned and shook her head, impulsively lurching forward to hug him tightly. “Silly Pharaoh,” she murmured with a small, melancholy smile. “No one could steal me from you. I’ll always be your favourite retainer, right?”

The Sun-King sighed softly, melting at the thoughtless affection, and slowly wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “Yes. My most beloved,” he replied quietly, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Good,” she whispered, feeling her stomach tie itself into one big, painful knot. “I’m not going anywhere. Well. I _am_ going somewhere. I’m going to fetch my book. Mash lent it to me, and she’ll be sad if I lose it.”

Ozymandias seemed reluctant to let her go though, a strange glimmer in his eyes when she finally pulled away. “... very well.”

“Why don’t we have dinner together, like we used to? Don’t want to be accused of neglecting my Pharaoh,” she quipped lightly with a smile, squeezing his arm until he responded with a faint one of his own.

“Yes, I would like that. Very much,” he nodded, pursing his lips and watching her leave with a furrowed brow. Looking troubled in a way he never had been before. 

Something had changed. And while his Master accepted it, the King of Kings began to realize that maybe… just maybe he couldn’t. 

Maybe he didn’t want to. 

It seemed finally, after all this time, the tables were turning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/8) Oh Ozy. I heart him, but he can be thick sometimes lol Will be adding a Part 2 to this later. But I think we need a bit more Solomon in our lives first ;)


	7. Lost and Found Pt. 2 (Solomon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It'd been weeks since the King of Mages was summoned to Chaldea. And although he knew his young Master was grieving, she couldn't keep him at an arm's length forever.
> 
> He wouldn't let her.

* * *

A buzz of excitement continued to hover around Chaldea for weeks after Solomon’s summoning. Even though he had no memory of them or the trials they faced, he was a reminder of the doctor so many had come to know and love. A reminder that together, they could overcome almost anything. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so welcome and wanted as a Heroic Spirit.

But there was one person who didn’t share their joy. The only person who didn’t smile broadly whenever he walked through the halls and greeted them with a rich, husky voice. 

His Master.

She didn’t outright avoid him. She never rejected his invitations to go for a walk or have a chat. She readily answered any and every question he asked, no matter how personal. Never turned him down if he expressed interest in joining her on the field. No, nothing so obvious. 

But there was an emptiness in her smile that he never missed. A certain hollowness in her voice. Her face became a mask in his presence. All expression and animation dissipated, in a way it didn’t with anyone else. For all he tried to learn about her, she did nothing to know him better. She didn’t want to. Or perhaps she couldn’t. 

Not yet.

He knew she was grieving, for the first time after so long. She admitted it. He knew it would take time for her to feel comfortable around him. He could see she was trying, difficult as it was. And he couldn’t help but put the burden of guilt onto his shoulders. 

It was his fault she grieved. His fault that she flinched every time he touched her, however lightly, during her check-ups. His fault she always maintained a certain amount of physical distance with him. As if being too close might reopen wounds she fought so hard to heal. 

Yet even knowing the reasons behind it, there was something about her that still drew him in like gravity. She was quiet and unassuming. Shy around people she didn’t know very well. Sarcastic and easygoing with those she did. She was so focused and calm in battle. Grounded in a way that was rare for someone her age. 

She inspired unwavering loyalty from her Servants. She valued them all equally, regardless of their power and strength. What’s more she treated them as people, with their own wants and desires, not merely as weapons to be used. 

And the courage she possessed. A fearless, quiet, stubborn kind of courage. More than once she threw herself in front of her Servants. More than once she’d come back from rayshifting with bumps, bruises and scrapes that he was left to disinfect and patch up. 

But she never complained. Never whined about being tired or in pain. She could’ve. She had every right to.

The world rested on her shoulders. Same as it had before. And it probably would again, after all was said and done. He couldn’t put a finger on it, couldn’t quite figure out why or how, but there was an air of destiny about her. She seemed oblivious to it, but he could see it clear as day.

She’d accomplished the impossible, time and again, as weak a mage as she was. It stole his breath every time.

He just wished there was something he could do to ease her burden, rather than add to it. 

If only she would let him.

Eris found herself sitting on the exam table yet again, legs swinging idly as Solomon gathered his supplies. More scraped knees. It was a wonder they weren’t covered in scars, at the rate she was going. And no matter how she protested, Bedivere always insisted she get tended at the clinic. What if she got an infection?

“Sorry, seems silly to visit over something so small. But you know Bedi. He’s overprotective,” she sighed, struggling to find the right words. 

Solomon smiled and shook his head, bringing a tray over and taking a seat in front of her. “He has a point. Physically, you’re far more fragile than any of us. Better to avoid an unpleasant infection.”

“I guess,” she said doubtfully, cocking her head and frowning curiously when he looked up at her with an odd glint in his eyes. 

“Besides, it seems to be the only way I can get you to spend time with me lately,” he said huskily, putting some disinfectant spray on her knees and blowing gently on them. 

Sending a wriggle straight up her spine and forcing a muffled surprised noise. “What?”

A bare smile teased his lips and he sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Master. That was… hm. I suppose it would be fair to say I’m a little… jealous.” 

“Jealous?” she repeated dumbly, sucking in a sharp breath as he cleaned her knees gently. 

“It’s obvious how much you’ve bonded with your other Servants. It can be… difficult, to feel left out.” There was a point behind his velvety words as he leaned back and picked out a large bandaid.

“I’m sorry, I-- but-- I mean, you’re not,” she argued weakly, her eyes falling to the floor when he sighed knowingly. “I take you out the same as everyone else. We’ve gone on walks. We… you know, spend time together.”

“Do we? Or do you suffer my company out of a sense of duty, simply waiting for it to be over because my presence continues to be painful?” His voice was low and shiver-inducing, but she felt the sharp point of his words pierce deeply. 

There was a reason he was known as Solomon the Wise.

“... I’m sorry,” she whispered, clutching the side of the table so hard her knuckles went white. “I know it’s not fair to you. I feel horrible about it. I’ve always tried so hard to make Servants feel wanted. It’s just--”

He nodded quietly, putting on the bandages. “— I understand. I should be patient.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” she said hoarsely, fighting with all her might not to tear up. “I know you just want—“

“— to be close to you. Yes,” he murmured, running his fingers through his hair and chuckling softly to himself. “What a strange dance we’ve begun. But I suppose that’s the way it always is, isn’t it?”

“What is?” she asked, the ache in her chest suddenly replaced by squirming flutters as he stroked behind her knee thoughtlessly.

“You find yourself in a sea of admirers. Yet the only one you see is the one who doesn’t see you,” he smiled wryly to himself, sighing with amusement as he put on the second bandage.

She had no idea what to say when he picked up the tray and left his seat, but her stomach did a series of hard somersaults. She slid off the table and squeezed the back of her neck, giving him a shaky, awkward smile. “... yeah. Well, thanks for the clean-up.”

“My pleasure,” he said easily, turning to her with the kind of smile that caught her breath. 

“You uh… you coming to movie night?” she asked hesitantly, feeling her cheeks begin to burn when he tilted his head and watched her steadily. 

“Would you like me to?” 

“Well… if you want to. We usually do it every couple weeks. Not everyone comes but, you know, it’s been a nice way to relax and unwind together.” Eris cleared her throat and tore herself away from his gaze, her hands fidgeting nervously. Why was he staring like that? Like he could see into her somehow. Maybe he could.

“And may I sit next to you?” Solomon’s tone was light, but the faintest smirk teased his lips, seeing her become flustered.

“I… well, if you want to,” she shrugged awkwardly, rubbing her pink cheek self-consciously. 

“I do,” he said plainly. He tilted his head to the other side, trying to catch her eyes. But she wouldn’t, coughing quietly and trying to clear the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. 

“... okay.” 

“What time does it start?”

“Sometime after dinner. So… 7-ish?”

Solomon looked at the clock and made a soft, assenting noise. “... alright. I look forward to it.”

“... uh-huh,” she replied shakily, turning around and making her way out as quickly as possible. Too busy feeling sheepish and uncomfortable to hear the quiet, husky laughter coming from the office.

  
  


Eris spent the next few hours fighting off increasing nerves. She usually did after being around the King of Mages. It wasn’t just that she was still grieving and he was a painful reminder of someone she’d lost. It was obvious the more time she spent with him: the King of Mages was a very different person.

Where Romani was shy and awkward, Solomon was quiet and observant. Where Romani fumbled with his words, lacking the courage to say what he wanted, Solomon didn’t. He simply preferred to be sparing with them. He was straightforward. In a way that made her squirm and flutter. 

Every time. 

She wasn’t sure what to do with it. Didn’t know how to reconcile these two completely different men, the connection they shared, and the conflicting jumble of feelings they both stirred. Was Romani what Solomon would become if he lacked the Kingly mantle and the power and magic that came with it? Would he become as self-doubting and unsure of himself? As bright and bubbly without the pressure? Was his calm and austere way of carrying himself all an act? Did it matter? 

Solomon wasn’t Romani. 

She had to let him go. 

As gracious as he’d been about it, the King had a point. She _was_ treating him differently, when she’d prided herself in treating everyone the same. She made attempts to bond with every single Servant she summoned. It showed in their unwavering loyalty, their determination to stay by her side as each new threat presented itself.

It wasn’t fair to exclude Solomon. Especially given the lengths she’d gone to bring him back. Given the effort he continually made to know her better. But if she were really honest with herself, it wasn’t just grief that had her skittish around the King.

He’d slowly become a source of persistent butterflies and spine-tingling shivers. Which was… confusing. 

Yes, it’d been quite a while since they first lost Romani. Technically, there was no reason to feel ashamed if someone caught her eye. Or more accurately, if she caught theirs. Which the King of Mages had made pretty clear from the start. As clueless as she normally was, Solomon left very little room for interpretation. 

And she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Of course he was handsome. Heart-stoppingly so. He dripped with grace and power, in a way that even some of her most powerful Servants didn’t. He was considerate. Thoughtful. Wise. He had an elusive je-ne-sais-quoi. He drew looks everywhere he went. He captured the attention of every room he entered.

It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t quite get it. He didn’t know her. He didn’t owe her anything. She hadn’t performed some amazing, insane magical feat on her own. She was a shit mage. It took everyone’s efforts to bring him back. Why was he so intent on getting closer?

She chewed on those thoughts almost as much as she chewed her lip while she sat waiting for Solomon to enter the Rec Room. She was stretched out on the couch as people began drifting in, trying to save a spot for him. An unusual gesture on her part, one that had her Servants looking at her curiously, and one she regretted the moment she agreed to it. How was she supposed to play it calm and collected with him right beside her? 

She didn’t need to wonder for long when Solomon walked through the doors. No, not walked. Floated. Swept in? He smiled gently and nodded at the other Servants, who did the same absent-mindedly, dumbstruck when he paused in front of Eris. He held his chin and made a soft hum, an almost mischievous glimmer in his eyes. 

“An interesting challenge,” he murmured, tilting his head as his eyes roamed her slowly. “Where shall I sit?” 

“Oh, I can get up. I wasn’t planning to--” she began, stopping when he held up a hand subtly. 

“But you look so comfortable, there’s no need to move,” he smiled warmly, rubbing his chin before his eyes lit up dimly. “I’ll sit on the end. You can rest your head in my lap.”

“What? Oh no, that’s okay,” she stammered, slowly sitting up when he motioned to her. Gracefully and expectantly. An innate entitlement that every ruler she’d met possessed. 

With flushing cheeks, she got up and leaned forward, avoiding the amused gazes of her Servants as they arranged themselves around the TV. Solomon took a seat, leaning back and stretching his legs on the ottomon. WIth a contented sigh he wrapped his arm around the back of the couch, and patted his lap. “Now rest your head.”

Eris made a quiet, reluctant noise, toes digging into the couch cushions when she turned to look at him doubtfully. 

“What’s wrong, Master? It’s a very comfortable lap,” he smiled easily, making her brow furrow. She could’ve sworn she saw his lips twitch mischievously. “I’ve seen you do the same with Cú and Marie. Is this any different?”

It _was_ , but she didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want anyone to know. So with a shaky inhale, she shook her head and dropped a pillow in his lap before laying back down. 

“There, isn’t that nice?” Solomon asked, patting her hair and nodding in thanks when Emiya passed a bowl of popcorn to them. 

She found herself unable to respond with anything other than a nervous grunt, placing the bowl by her stomach as she curled up. 

“Everyone ready? Okay!” Marie clapped excitedly and started the first movie, a fantasy adventure. 

Eris spent the first several minutes trying to pay attention to the movie. Not the fact that she was partly curled up on Solomon’s lap. Or how good he smelled. Or that every time he reached for popcorn, she half expected him to rest his arm on her waist. Or that she kind of wanted him to. 

No. She was just paying attention to the movie. 

Eventually the story drew her in, and she finally began to relax. Solomon leaned over and took the half-empty bowl of popcorn, setting it aside. Then he unfolded a blanket hanging over the couch and draped it over her. She exhaled shakily and craned her neck to look up at him, blushing at the small, warm smile that greeted her. 

He bent down slightly and smoothed a hand over her hair, pushing her bangs away from her face. “Warm?” he murmured, humming contentedly when she nodded sheepishly. “Good.” 

They watched the rest of the movie in relative silence. She couldn’t remember when his hand clasped her arm, brushing it idly. Or when the other began scratching her scalp lightly. It wasn’t until the movie came to a close that she noticed it. And while everyone stretched their legs and went to refill drinks and snacks before the next movie, Eris sat up slowly with a groan. 

She reached her arms to the ceiling and stifled a squeaky yawn, when she heard Solomon chuckle quietly. She turned to him with a mild frown, flushing at the amused glimmer in his eyes. “... what?” 

“I never knew my Master was so adorable,” he replied huskily, tickling her cheek with a finger and making her blush immediately. 

“What? No,” she muttered, pushing his hand away with a huff. “I’m gonna make some tea. You want some?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he nodded with a smile, eyes steady on her in a way that made her stomach leap to her throat. 

“No, no trouble,” she replied hastily, all but leaping off the couch and heading for the cafeteria. Far too eager to create some distance between them. 

Just for a bit. 

Just long enough for the butterflies to die down.

She returned to the Rec Room a few minutes later with a steaming mug in each hand. Solomon turned to her with an expectant smile, his head propped up by a hand on the sofa arm. It was then she noticed that he wasn’t wearing his mage robes. Or his doctor’s outfit. He was wearing tanned slacks and black button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos. His hair still back in a ponytail that cascaded over the back of the couch.

… he looked good. But when _didn’t_ he look good?

He held a hand out and took a mug, inhaling deeply and making a contented noise. “Lemon ginger? Lovely,” he murmured, taking a slow, careful sip. 

“My favourite,” she commented with a smile, sitting next to him and crossing her legs before throwing the blanket over her lap. She noticed the change in movie goers. Some new faces while others had left. “What’re we watching next?”

“Horror,” Emiya said blithely, fighting a smirk when he nodded to her. “Are you sure you're okay to watch?” 

“What? Of course I am,” she said indignantly, scrunching her nose at him. “I like horror movies.”

“Do you? Last time you spent most of the movie hiding your face behind a pillow,” Cú chuckled, even louder when she tossed a cushion at him. “Careful now, you might need that.”

“Last time you guys told me it was a suspense thriller. I wasn’t prepared,” she said haltingly, struggling to choose her words. 

“Does my Master scare easily?” Solomon asked curiously, lips tugging subtly on the right when she frowned at him. 

“ _No_.”

“Not when the danger is real. But it seems your imagination runs a little too wild in the dark,” Marie quipped, hugging a pillow in her lap and smiling brightly. “At least you have Solomon to hold onto if you get scared.”

“She does,” the Grand Caster replied wryly, shrugging innocently when Eris noticed he and Marie exchanged cryptic, knowing glances. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Master. I’ll keep you safe.” 

“I’m not afraid a boogey-monster is going to jump out of the screen and get me,” she said defensively, bringing her knees up to her chest and huffing grumpily. “I just get startled sometimes.”

“Of course, _startled_. Shall we?” Emiya smirked, turning on the movie as he leaned back and stretched out with a sigh. 

She stuck her tongue and made a face at him, slumping back into the couch as she sipped her tea. This was fine. She wasn’t a total baby like her Servants implied. She could handle a scary movie, no problem.

And she did. 

For the first half hour. 

Solomon silently took her empty mug and set it aside, stretching his arm out behind her. As the suspense increased, she slowly drew the blanket higher, eyes glued to the screen as her heart began to pound. She yelped when the King tried to scratch the back of her neck soothingly, sheepishly forcing herself to lean back and relax when he chuckled with amusement. 

But the story sucked her in again as the protagonists found themselves trapped in a creepy, abandoned house. She knew there’d be jump scares coming. There always were. But knowing made no difference. It didn’t stop the muffled cry when the deformed antagonist began stalking in the shadows. She shut her eyes and shuddered, turning her face away. 

Right into the corner of Solomon’s chest. 

He sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. She didn’t stop him. Didn’t see the small, pleased smile that teased his lips. Barely registered how thick and muscled his arm was. Everything about him was taller and broader than Romani. He gently rubbed her waist, but it didn’t do much to soothe as the twisted, supernatural villain began to attack the protagonists.

Why did she stay? She should’ve just gone to bed early. Why did she always subject herself to this? When was she going to learn?

She must’ve looked exceptionally pathetic and frightened, because the next thing she knew the King of Mages drew her into his lap properly, blanket and all. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and rested his chin on the top of her head. As if enveloping her in him would make her feel safe and calm. 

… and it did. Well. Calm- _er_. 

In any other circumstance, she would’ve been bombarded with flutters and hot cheeks and freaking out and overthinking. But right now she was grateful for a place to hide her face when she needed, and the warm arms that squeezed her gently every time she flinched. 

When the movie finally ended, she sighed with relief and slumped against Solomon’s chest, reality beginning to sink in when he slowly rubbed her back in long, soothing strokes. 

“All done,” he smiled, tenderly pressing his lips against her hair, and making her shiver unconsciously. 

“Mhm,” she grunted, her toes beginning to itch and tickle as she stopped herself from squirming out of his embrace. 

“I’m glad you invited me,” he murmured softly, and she could hear the bare smirk in his voice when he squeezed her waist. 

“Yeah, well… hadn’t planned for, you know. _This_ ,” she waved vaguely, finally trying to sidle out of his lap as everyone gathered the empty bowls and cups and started to make their way out. 

“Hm. I suppose not,” he sighed, not hiding the disappointment on his face when she stood up and stretched her stiff legs. “I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

“Mkay,” she nodded shyly, retying her robe and walking out with him, purposely ignoring Marie’s twinkling eyes as she noiselessly waved goodnight. 

They walked together in a semi-comfortable silence before he finally tilted his head towards her. “Will you be able to sleep after this?”

Eris rubbed the back of her neck and scrunched her nose, avoiding his concerned smile. “... eventually. Probably.”

“Will you have nightmares?” he frowned, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Fifty-fifty,” she laughed sheepishly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know, shouldn’t have stayed to watch.”

Solomon shrugged as they stepped into the elevator, looking down at her with a bare smile. “It’s selfish, but I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to hold you.”

She groaned and hid her face in her hands, laughing in disbelief. “Ugh, why are you so... _on_? What am I supposed to do with you? It’s not even flirtatious, it’s… I don’t know...” 

“Is it wrong to be open?” he asked curiously, brow furrowed as he looked into the distance, stepping out of the elevator beside her. “Do you dislike it?” 

“No. I don’t know. You’re just so… forward. It’s intense. I’m not used to it,” she shrugged helplessly, cheeks a bright pink as she continued to avoid his thoughtful gaze.

“... yes, I can see how it might come across that way,” he mused, rubbing his chin and pausing in front of her quarters. “It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Master.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine,” she waved vaguely, squeezing the back of her neck as she shuffled her feet in front of the door. 

“I meant what I said. The way you nestled against me. Hid your face in my chest when you were frightened. The way you relaxed when I rubbed your back. Knowing I could soothe you. Comfort you. Hm. It was… wonderful. I’d like to hold you again,” he murmured quietly, as if to himself, before offering her a bare, almost flirtatious smile. Almost.

She let out a gust of air in surprise, making a shy, embarrassed noise. “... sure, I guess.”

His face lit up dimly, eyes glimmering brightly as he tilted his head. “When?”

“I don’t know. Whenever,” she shrugged stupidly, a blend of panic and butterflies spinning around her chest. 

But there was no time to think, because with a surprised squeak, Solomon immediately lifted her up into his arms. The smallest, faintest smirk on his lips. “No time like the present,” he sighed, eyes twinkling when she attempted (and failed) to give him a disapproving frown.

“You are… _persistent_ ,” she finally said, eyeing him warily with bright red cheeks. 

“Yes, I suppose I am,” he said blithely, squeezing her gently as he hid his face in her neck, inhaling slowly and deeply. “I thought it best to learn from my other self’s mistakes.”

“Oh?” she mumbled, unable to do anything but give in as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder. “How so?”

Solomon hummed thoughtfully, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes with an inscrutable expression. “It’s better to hold on, than cower like a fool and leave things unsaid. You are worth the risk. And it seems, perhaps, my Master is open to my pursuit?”

Eris groaned and hid her face in his shoulder, mumbling inaudibly. “Doesn’t seem like much will stop you.”

“No, it won’t. You both gave me a second chance at existence. I choose to make the most of it,” he murmured, smiling to himself when she sighed and squeezed his neck. 

“You're too much,” she muttered in weak protest, finally meeting his gaze with an annoyed frown.

“Am I really?” he teased huskily, appearing completely content to keep her dangling in the air. 

“Mostly,” she huffed, resentfully kissing his cheek before pushing on his chest and squirming out of his arms. “I’m going to bed. You’re making my head spin.”

“When can I see you again? Just the two of us?” he asked, unable to hide a beaming smile at the kiss when she scrunched her nose and shrugged embarrassedly. 

“I don’t know. When we’re both free, I guess?” 

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Could do when I come back from rayshifting.”

“When?”

“After dinner?”

“Alright,” he smiled, stepping forward to cup the back of her head and kiss her temple. “Let me know if you have trouble sleeping? If you have nightmares, I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Mhm,” she nodded, hugging her waist as her belly slithered and writhed uncontrollably. “Night, Solomon.”

“Sweet dreams, Master,” he sighed, bowing his head before heading down the hallway. 

She watched him silently for a few moments before dashing into her room, flopping onto the bed, and screaming into her pillow. There were no two ways about it. She didn’t stand a chance in hell of resisting. She was putty in his hands. To an embarrassing degree.

Who knew the King of Mages was as smooth as silk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/12) Solomon. OOF. He'll be getting a part 3. And probably a part 4 as well at some point >.> Not sure what's coming up next. Currently a toss-up between Ozy part 2 or one of the guys I haven't done yet (ie. Cu, Arthur, Diarmuid... maybe Hektor?).


	8. Sighs (Lancer Cú)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancer Cú was well known to be a flirt around Chaldea. But something had been bothering him lately. 
> 
> His Master wasn't reacting to his playful teasings like she used to.
> 
> ... he'd have to fix that.

* * *

Cú was one of the ‘oldest’ Servants in Eris’ growing roster, and it showed. There was a certain ease and familiarity they shared that ran deeper than the others, despite that he was well known in Chaldea to be a flirt and a tease. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed any and all female attention, and never missed an opportunity to make them giggle and smile coyly. 

Including and especially his Master. 

In the early days she’d blush and laugh in surprise at his casual flirting. Maybe offer him a shy smile if he said something particularly sweet. Her eyes would sparkle when he entered the room. And on the rare occasion, she let out a soft, wistful sigh when he left. It was music to his ears.

Music he hadn’t heard in quite a while. 

Maybe she’d gotten too used to his carefree nature. Maybe she’d walked in on him tickling a staff member’s cheek one too many times. Maybe with the growing number of breathtaking beauties, he hadn’t paid her the same attention. Maybe she was content to be in playful pursuit by the other men (and women) in her roster. But lately he realized his daily flirtations with the others weren't as satisfying as it used to be. He was beginning to feel an itch under his skin. 

One that he began to suspect, only his Master could scratch. 

He found her in the cafeteria late one afternoon, going through some research and nibbling on some sliced strawberries that Emiya had laid out for her. They were her favourite, and although she was perfectly capable of fetching them herself, the Archer rarely let her into ‘his’ kitchen. 

Cú slid into the seat next to her, leaning over to grab a strawberry, and watched her with an expectant smile. 

The corner of her mouth curled ever so slightly as she took in a deep breath, eyes still fixed on her tablet. “Hi Cú,” she murmured, scrolling up as she continued reading. “What’s up?”

“Something occurred to me,” he said, propping his head on an elbow as he continued to roam her face. Her brow furrowed in deep concentration, creating the faintest lines. And her lips were pushed to the side as she read. It was adorable. She usually was, though she was never aware of it. 

“Oh, and what’s that?” she replied distractedly, blindly reaching for a strawberry when suddenly she felt one pressed to her lips. 

“You’ve been a terribly neglectful Master of late,” he quipped, eyes twinkling when she rolled her eyes but opened her mouth, silently accepting his offering. 

“Agree to disagree,” she said wryly between bites, giving him a wary side glance when he moved in closer. 

“No, it’s fact. You don’t spend nearly as much of your free time with me as you used to. One might almost think you preferred another man’s company over mine. Which is  _ absurd _ . Who could possibly usurp my place in my Master’s heart?” he sighed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and eliciting a wisp of a smirk.

“Who indeed,” she muttered sarcastically, finally putting the tablet down when it was clear that he wasn’t going to let her work in peace. 

“I can think of a few off the top of my head. Arthur. Diarmuid. Gawain. Wherever you go, there they are,” he said, attempting to sound grumpy, if not for the teasing undertone in his voice. Although his lips twitched at the slight flush in her cheeks. Except it wasn’t for or because of him. 

This wouldn’t do.

“Arthur and Diarmuid have been teaching me sword-fighting. And Gawain is almost as bad a flirt as you are. Not exactly competition for my ‘heart’,” she replied diplomatically, but her cheeks only turned pinker at his narrow-eyed scrutiny. 

“I’m not so sure,” he teased, tickling her cheek with a finger and smirking when she batted his hand away. “But I won’t rest until you rectify this issue.”

“You have most every woman in Chaldea on tenterhooks for any crumb of your attention,” she groaned, offering him a tired smile as she mirrored his posture and rested her chin on a hand. “I don’t need to join that line-up. Is it really an issue?”

He jerked his head subtly, feeling the barbed point to her words as his lips edged into a subtle frown. “Of course it’s an issue. There’s no one’s company I enjoy nearly as much as yours.”

“Liar,” she smirked, shaking her head before returning her attention to her tablet.

“Master, I do many things, but lying isn’t one of them,” he replied, his frown deepening as he deftly took the tablet and placed it out of her reach. 

“Cú, what do you want? What do I have to do to work in peace?” she groaned defeatedly, the barest smile teasing her lips.

But it wouldn’t appear fully, and it was making that itch worsen. “I want you to smile at me the way you used to,” he admitted shamelessly, lifting another strawberry slice to her lips. 

“I smile at you all the time,” she argued, opening her mouth so he could pop it in. 

“But not the way you  _ used  _ to,” he corrected her with a huff. And by the way her eyebrows raised subtly, it seemed she caught the thinnest vein of agitation in his voice.

“I  _ used  _ to believe your sweet nothings were only for me,” she pointed out with an arched eyebrow and the smallest smirk. “I know better now.”

Cú grunted with mild annoyance, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I’m deprived of your affection out of jealousy? I thought my Master knew she’s worth a dozen pretty faces,” he frowned, sounding a bit more sulky than he’d intended.

“I am  _ not  _ jealous, and you are deprived of  _ nothing _ ,” she scoffed, getting to her feet and dropping a light kiss on his cheek before snatching her tablet back. “The only other person who gets any affection from me is our boy-king. Now let me work. I need to get these reports done by tonight.”

At that she took her half-empty plate of strawberries and headed out of the cafeteria. 

  
  


Eris shook her head and chuckled to herself, wondering what had gotten into the Lancer. He never expressed discontent before, she couldn’t imagine why he’d start now. They’d always gotten along better than anyone else. And sure, maybe she’d harboured a crush on the handsome knight in the beginning, but who hadn’t at some point? He drew female attention as easily as water from a well. 

And he drew it from every well he could.

Maybe there was a grain of truth to his words. But her wounded feelings were a thing of the past. How many times did she have to walk in on him sweet-talking one of the girls before she got the hint and gave up hope? 

One too many times, in her opinion. 

Maybe she’d come out the other end with thicker skin. Maybe her smile stopped reaching her eyes when a Servant tried to lay down their charm. She wasn’t mad at it. Flirting was fun. An enjoyable distraction and way to relieve stress. She didn’t blame him. In fact, she flirted a bit herself now and then.

When someone looked at her like she was the only person in the room. When the attention was genuine. When it seemed like she was more than a fleeting conquest or a game to be won. Maybe it was the mind-breaking responsibilities on her shoulders. Maybe it was her youth. Maybe she was still a romantic at heart. But she didn’t see the point in wasting her time on empty platitudes. 

What was a short-term ego boost compared to a chance with someone who’d treat her like the princess she’d never be, but wished she was?

She let out a soft, wistful sigh as her mind wandered at the possibilities. She wasn’t sure who, if anyone, might step forward one day. She had some inklings. She held the smallest, most stubborn hope that someone would eventually. She just had to keep that door open. And until that day came, young Gilgamesh was only too happy to be the sole recipient of her warm, tender kisses.

As soon as she finished sighing, she heard a quiet snort beside her. 

“See?  _ That _ . That sigh used to be for me,” Cú huffed, stealing her tablet once again and tucking it under his arm. 

“It’s just a sigh. It’s not  _ for  _ anyone,” she rolled her eyes, vainly trying to sneak it back. “Come on, I have to work.”

“I  _ miss  _ that sigh,” he said softly, an earnest gravel to his voice that sent a shiver straight up her spine despite herself. 

She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat as she suddenly found herself at a loss for words under his focused, intent gaze. She couldn’t stop the faint flush to her cheeks. Couldn’t stop them turning brighter when he smiled. Not his usual wide, carefree smile. It was barely there, but warmer and more sincere than she’d seen before. 

Feeling flustered in a way she hadn’t in ages, annoyance began to stiffen her spine. And not trusting herself to speak without stammering, she simply reached for her datapad mutely. 

“No. Not until my Master promises to spend time with me,” he chided teasingly, feeling a victorious ripple in his chest at her blushing state. 

Now  _ this  _ was more like it.

“Fine, but not now,” she managed to hiss, gritting her teeth and forcing her voice to remain steady, holding out her hand expectantly. 

“When?” he persisted, keeping the tablet behind his back and out of reach.

She groaned, shaking her head with frustration, willing her cheeks to stop burning.

They wouldn’t. 

“Sherlock predicted a benign anomaly would appear in a couple days. How about then? We’ll probably get some time off,” she finally huffed, opening and closing her hand meaningfully. 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she parroted impatiently, grunting when he finally gave her tablet back. 

“I’m holding you to it,” he quipped, bracing his elbows as he watched her walk off. 

Eris shook her head and muttered under her breath, waving vaguely at him as she continued down the hall. 

Yeah, right. 

What she hadn’t mentioned was that Sherlock advised the anomaly was linked to a tropical summer resort. There was no way Cú would think twice about her when every female in sight was displaying their delightful curves in skimpy bikinis. 

No way.

  
  


A couple days later, Eris found herself walking hand in hand with young Gil as he led her through the resort. They crossed into the poolside area, and passed Servants who stretched out on lounging chairs or swimming. 

She did her best to look casual and carefree, all the while shuddering self-consciously on the inside. She’d never worried about her looks before humanity’s destruction. But now, surrounded by mythical perfection everywhere she looked, it was impossible not to compare herself. To feel like a shrinking violet in their statuesque shadows.

Marie and Nero had convinced her to buy a new bikini, something sexier than she’d have picked for herself. A deep blue-green that shimmered subtly to match her eyes, with thick straps that criss crossed over her upper torso and teasing little cutaways at her hips. After a spirited debate (read: argument) with the emperor earlier in the morning, she finally agreed to put it on. 

… and promptly put on a full-length silk cover-up that young Gil had lent her. Because apparently the one she wore was “a drab and impoverished reflection on her King, as his favoured retainer”. She probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, and had to fight a hearty laugh at the sober expression on his face as he gently chastised her. So she graciously accepted the long blue and gold wrap that he summoned from his treasury. 

As young Gil proudly led her closer to the small gathering of Servants, his older Archer self frowned and sat up in his lounging chair. “Mongrel,” he barked, tilting his head and eyeing his Master up and down slowly. “What is  _ that _ ?”

“What is what?” she asked, jerking her head and eyeballing herself with confusion. 

“ _ That _ ,” he gestured impatiently to her silk wrap, eyes narrowing at the boy-king’s small, almost smug smile. “Did  _ he  _ give it to you?  _ Tch _ . It’s far too opulent to be used for beachtime recreation. You’ll ruin it.”

“I find your lack of faith in my Master disturbing,” young Gil said placidly, his lips twitching further at the Archer’s annoyed snort. “She’s deserving of such luxuries, and it suits her perfectly. Far better than what she chose for herself. Besides, she’ll take it off once we get to the beach.”

Their Caster alternate sighed disappointedly from a few chairs away, cracking a single eye open from where he was resting to inspect their Master. “It’s too long. You should have given her one of the shorter ones. That would be more appropriate. Here. Mongrel, take this instead,” he said lazily, snapping his fingers as a similar style wrap hung from his fingers. 

“Fool! She’s far too fair to pull off that much gold. Perhaps after she’s had some sun. She’d look far better in  _ this _ ,” the Archer huffed, curling his nose at both his other selves as he manifested a white version with blue and gold accents. “It’s clear I’m the only King with any  _ true  _ discerning taste.”

The Caster rolled his eyes and shook his head, dismissive as usual of his younger, hot-headed self. 

Eris simply furrowed her brow and looked down at the youngest King of Heroes and shrugged. “... my King?”

“Why do you always defer to the child? As if he has any experience with beauty,” Archer snorted, his mini-outburst slowly attracting the attention of nearby Servants, making her shift on her feet uncomfortably. 

“Because I like him the most. Neither of you treats me as well as he does,” she said plainly, sniffing defensively before looking down and smiling warmly at the boy-king. 

This time her barbed remark was echoed by two derisive snorts, as the Caster sat up straight and frowned with deep disapproval. “The boy gives you  _ one  _ measly dress, and that’s enough to sway your loyalty?”

“I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised,” Kid Gil commented mildly, though his eyes twinkled impishly under his Master’s glowing praise. “They’re incapable of accepting defeat, gracefully or otherwise.”

“A garden should only be tended by those with the skill and experience to bring out its natural beauty,” the Archer scoffed, pursing his lips when Eris tilted her head and narrowed her eyes with amusement. “He plays with you like a child playing with clay.”

“But my King, I thought I was plain and uninspiring? What difference could it possibly make?” she asked innocently, struggling not to cackle gleefully when the Archer’s cheeks flushed, ever so slightly. 

“He lies to hide his true intent. Poorly, I might add,” Caster Gil said blithely, insistently holding out the wrap dress he’d summoned. “Go on.”

But Eris ignored both men and looked down at the boy again with a shrug. 

The boy inhaled slowly and deeply, unable to stop his chest from puffing up proudly as he eyed both alternatives. Finally he pointed to the one stubbornly wiggling in the Archer’s hand. “Despite his poor delivery, his  _ is  _ the better choice,” young Gil said after a few moment’s thought. “Wear that instead, Master.”

“Yes, my King,” she nodded obediently, unable to fight the amused smile when the Archer tilted his chin up victoriously. “I humbly accept your generous gift.”

“And well you should. I’m not in the habit of allowing such luxuries to touch a mongrel’s skin. But needs must, in this instance,” he said imperiously, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as she took it. 

She simply nodded and sighed, pausing by one of the empty chairs and dropping off her small bag as she delicately took off the first wrap. As soon as it slid off her shoulders, she heard an approving throaty noise behind her. 

“... Mongrel,” Caster Gil said with a small smirk, his eyes slowly roaming her up and down. “ _ This _ is new.”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Yell at Nero and Marie if you don’t like it,” she said quickly, taking the shorter wrap and putting her arms through when she felt her cheeks burn. As though suddenly many eyes were on her. 

And when she slowly turned around, the robe still hanging open, she realized there were. Had there been that many Servants hanging out when they first arrived? Hard to say. All the Kings of Uruk stole her focus the moment they spoke up. Which was par for the course where they were concerned.

“I wasn’t referring to the bathing suit. I was referring to the new silhouette you possess,” the Caster pointed out huskily, his lips hanging firmly on the left. “...  _ delightful _ .”

She blinked stupidly a few times, her cheeks threatening to turn beet red as she coughed and spluttered. “I… uh… thank you?”

“You certainly improve the view,” he said smugly, reclining back on his lounger and placing his hands behind his head. “This pleases me. I insist you remain a while longer.”

“She’s too pale to be in this harsh sun. Take care to put on sunscreen before the rest of you looks as pink as your cheeks. You’ll ruin my gift otherwise,” Archer Gil huffed, hands clenched into fists, irritated by the Caster’s compliments.

“Yes, my King,” Eris muttered, squeezing the back of her neck and looking nervously as a few more Servants openly admired her new bikini. “Was going to put it on at the beach.”

“Imbecile! Put it on  _ now  _ before you go into the sun,” the Archer King growled, waving impatiently at her. 

“Yes, my King,” she sighed defeatedly, taking off the wrap and sitting down as she filched through her bag. 

“Master, you mustn’t forget your back. Though I suppose you can’t reach it on your own...” Gawain noted with a mildly flirtatious smile.

Diarmuid perked up and approached with a small, admiring smile of his own. “If you like, I can--” 

“-- I don’t think so. Don’t trust your hands anywhere near our Master,” Cú quipped, picking up her bag and grabbing Eris’ hand. He gestured sharply to the youngest Gilgamesh as he began power-walking towards the beach. “Come on, King. Let’s get her out of here before these hungry wolves devour her whole.”

“You’re the hungriest hound of them all!” Archer Gil barked, scowling with disapproval as Eris dumbly followed the Lancer towards the beach. 

“No! Just the quickest,” he turned back with a wicked grin, winking at Gawain and Diarmuid smugly. 

The Lancer hummed contentedly to himself, swinging their hands gently as the boy-king trailed behind with a mild frown. “ _ Stop _ ,” young Gil finally huffed meaningfully when they made it to the small gate leading to the shore. 

Eris stopped and paused to look at him, forcing down the wriggling sensations in her stomach at the casual way Cú’s fingers caressed hers. 

No. No. It didn’t mean anything. She knew better. She wasn’t going to let herself--

Suddenly small, slender fingers separated their hands, and young Gilgamesh looked up at Cú with a mildly suspicious expression. “You’re too bold, Lancer. I gave no permission for such… affectionate displays,” the boy said with a slowly arching eyebrow, snorting in a way that was all too familiar and made her lips tug with amusement. “You forget yourself.”

“My deepest apologies, little king. I only wanted to protect our Master from being overwhelmed by unwanted attention,” Cú said with an easy smile, holding his hands up in defeat.

Gilgamesh inhaled slowly and carefully, taking his Master’s hand gently as he opened the gate and led her through. “... that remains to be seen. Your eyes lingered just as long as the ones you’d protect her from. I expected better from a knight.”

“But Gawain and Diarmuid are--” Cú protested, his tone earnest despite the playful smirk on his face. “And they--”

“-- are not here.  _ You  _ are. Your attempt to deflect is insulting. I may be a child, but I’m no fool. I’m still a king, and our Master is my  _ favoured  _ retainer. She’s more than a passing fancy for a roving eye,” Gilgamesh countered evenly, pursing his lips and looking at Cú knowingly.

Eris blushed brightly but squeezed the boy’s hand appreciatively nonetheless, eliciting a small smile from the young king. He paused once they reached the beach, looking for a suitable place to lay down their blanket. His eye caught on Jack, Marie and Jeanne in the distance, and headed for them.

But Cú wasn’t deterred by Gil’s measured reprimand. He simply made a throaty noise of amusement and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what could the little king know of such things?”

“A dullard could see the way you flit about from one flower to another. I don’t need personal experience to understand that your smile is for many, not one,” Gil said tiredly, rolling his eyes slightly as he stopped at a shaded spot further back from the water. 

Eris was too amused by Gil’s wise observations to insert herself into the conversation, content to quietly throw down the large blanket she’d packed for them. 

“No, I suppose you don’t,” Cú replied with a wry smile, idly helping her straighten it out. “My smile may be given freely to many, but my heart...  _ that _ , I would only give to one.”

“I was unaware your heart had anything to do with it,” young Gil quipped slyly, turning to the beach with a vague wave when Jack and Marie called out to him.

“Ah, perhaps that’s where the king’s lack of experience shows,” the Lancer shrugged nonchalantly, taking a seat next to Eris with a quiet groan. “The truth is, I would never dishonour our Master. And I’d cut down any man who’d dare to try.”

There was a quiet, almost tender seriousness in his tone that made Eris’ heart clench painfully tight, before it skipped several beats. She avoided Cú’s discreet, meaningful side glance and busied herself with rummaging through her bag instead.

Gilgamesh tilted his head, watching the Lancer steadily and noting the way his playful expression tempered. “... I believe you. And if you turn out to be a liar, it will be  _ I _ who cuts  _ you _ down.”

The boy said it so casually, that Eris couldn’t help the short, surprised laugh that burst forth. “My King…”

Cú made an amused, interested noise as he stretched out his legs and leaned back on his elbows. “... you think you could?”

Gil offered the faintest smile, but there was no missing the deadly intent behind his ruby eyes. A blurry, disconcerting reflection of the man he’d become in another place, another time. “My older selves mock me, saying I’m the weakest amongst them. Even so I could still end you, quickly  _ or _ slowly, with very little effort on my part. The King of Heroes is not to be trifled with, at  _ any _ age.”

“I hear you, king. Loud and clear,” Cú nodded deferentially, his lips twitching fitfully.

“Master needs assistance putting on sunscreen. I trust you can accomplish this task without your hands wandering the way your eyes _still_ _are_?” Gil asked pointedly, briefly glancing to Eris with a mildly furrowed brow. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, my King. Thank you for your attentiveness. I couldn’t ask for a better escort,” Eris smiled warmly, getting up onto her knees and shuffling towards him. “I thought I’d get a bit of reading in before I join you and the others.”

Gil nodded amiably, his cheeks starting to flush when his Master’s eyes sparkled and she clasped her hands behind her back expectantly. “... very well, go on,” he finally groaned, unable to hide the smug, pleased look on his face as he bent down and tilted his cheek towards her.

Eris grinned widely and cupped his face lightly, giving him big, warm kisses on each cheek. “The cleverest, most wonderful king,” she sighed contentedly, getting onto her stomach and reaching in her bag for her book. 

“I know,” Gil said mildly, clearing his throat awkwardly as he turned on his heel and walked towards the other girls by the water.

“Who  _ don’t  _ you have wrapped around your pinky here?” Cú chuckled, shaking his head and watching Gil leave. “If we’d been there any longer, I expected the Gils would start tossing jewels your way, on top of more robes.” 

“It’s a-- they’re just…,” she sighed with a confused shrug. “They’re competitive. I don’t know, I imagine it’s gotta be weird. They’re each other but not. Though I expect it might be just as weird for you, if you met your alternate selves.”

“Hmph. Let’s hope that never happens. You only need  _ one _ Cú in your life,” the Lancer said wryly, sitting up and reaching over her to grab her bag.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.  _ Definitely  _ couldn’t handle four of you,” Eris smirked, opening her book when she suddenly squeaked at the feeling of something cold hitting her back. 

“There are three more of me? Really?” Cú hummed curiously, dropping sunscreen in a thin line down her back before slowly rubbing it in. 

A little  _ too _ slowly.

“At least three that Da Vinci told me of,” she nodded, shivering as his hands casually stroked up and down her back. “I only hope that’s all.”

“Hmph. Don’t need more competition for your attention. My hands are full as it is,” the Lancer teased half-heartedly, rubbing along her shoulders as well. 

“Cú, stop. There’s no competition, and you are  _ not _ starving for my attention,” she groaned, feeling a shiver up her spine as cold sunscreen dripped along the back of her legs. 

“You certain of that, Master?” he murmured, gently massaging her legs as he rubbed in the lotion.

“ _ Yes _ ,” she mumbled, scratching her nose as she felt her cheeks start to burn.

Cú hummed thoughtfully, watching as she propped herself up on her forearms and stared out at the water. “... you’re wrong.”

She frowned slightly, eyes falling to her book as her stomach somersaulted. “... is this about the new bikini?”

“What?” the Lancer laughed in surprise, capping the bottle before stretching onto his stomach next to her. “You think that’s all it would take?”

“All it’s ever taken before. Just following the patterns,” she shrugged, scrunching her nose when he bumped shoulders with her. 

“... I’m not the knight you deserve, Master,” he murmured, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I never was.”

“Maybe not,” she sighed shakily, shrugging her shoulders and avoiding his intent gaze. 

“But also...  _ none  _ of them are,” he smiled, running his finger along her jaw lightly.

“Probably,” she quipped wryly, her fingers tightening around the book that she couldn’t seem to focus on. 

The only thing that existed was the finger trailing along her neck and across her shoulder. 

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be,” he confessed, eyes glimmering dimly as he let out a sigh. A soft, breathy sigh. 

The kind of sigh that he’d wanted from her.

She couldn’t stop her eyebrows from knitting together, stifling a questioning noise as she turned to him. He chuckled huskily at the open confusion painting her face. 

“Oh come on, Master. I consider myself a pretty confident guy, but you’re spoiled for choice now. In the beginning I thought— but eh. You were inexperienced and struggling. You needed a spear on the field and a pleasant distraction after. Not strings and confessions and promises that couldn’t be kept,” he reasoned quietly, smiling when she rolled onto her side, listening to him with a hesitant frown.

“... why’re you saying all this?” she finally asked, inhaling sharply when he leaned in closer. “Why now?”

“We’ve been together a long time. From the beginning,” he explained, his voice low and just a tinge gravelly. Enough to make her stomach flutter. “You’ve grown up since then. You had to.”

Eris nodded mutely, her heart beginning to hammer when he slowly lifted his hand to cup her cheek.

“You don’t want a pleasant distraction anymore,” he observed shrewdly, humming as his thumb delicately brushed over her lower lip. “And maybe… I don’t either.”

She blinked stupidly, opening her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead she huffed and frowned at him distrustfully.

“Every promise I’ve made, I’ve broken. It’s better not to make them. Never put myself in a position where I might want to,” he sighed, the barest, crooked smile on his face. “You’ve made that damn near impossible.”

Eris’ frown deepened despite the flush to her cheeks, which only made him smile wider. 

“Guess some things have stayed the same. Still can’t take a compliment,” he teased, feeling a pleasurable tickle in his chest at the way his Master’s eyebrows raised. Ever so subtly. 

Shocked. Surprised. 

… hopeful?

But she refused to reply. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She was certain her voice would falter and she’d stumble over her words and-- she just… hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t prepared. Had no inkling that maybe he felt--  _ should  _ she have? Were there signs somewhere she’d been missing? Had there been more to his flirty comments in the past? 

His eyes always sparkled when she walked in the room, but didn’t they for every girl? He always took every opportunity to be near her, to touch her however briefly. But she’d seen him casually brush his fingers along arms before. It wasn’t unique. 

… he didn’t spend time with them though. Nothing more than a bit of passing banter. Enough to secretly make her jealous in the early days. Enough to make her wince and flush with embarrassment when she accidentally intruded. But now come to think of it, the only female he spent extended time with was  _ her _ .

Nothing eventful, and it never seemed to be on purpose. She just happened to be somewhere, he happened to show up, and they proceeded to hang out. They’d watch TV together. He’d relax with his head in her lap while she read. He’d bring snacks or drinks. He’d poke her if she seemed stressed out. Tried to make her laugh. Offered to lend an ear to her troubles. She’d never considered it as more than him being a good friend and a good Servant. But--

“... you’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?” he chuckled, booping her nose gently as her mind wandered. “Guess I deserve it.”

“You’re not making sense,” she finally said, lips twisting into something that was almost a defensive pout. Which made him grin widely, feeling a victorious flutter of his own. 

“I’m making perfect sense,” he smiled flirtatiously as he tickled her neck. “I want to be the only reason you sigh.”

“Cú, I don’t sigh--” she groaned, shaking her head with mild annoyance.

“-- nope. I’ve made up my mind,” he quipped stubbornly, eyes glittering brightly at the deep pink tinge to her cheeks. “I’m not giving anyone else the chance to sneak in and sweep you off your feet.” 

Eris scrunched her nose and looked away, her stomach writhing and twisting fitfully. What? Was he serious? He couldn’t be. He was never serious. This must be some new game he’s concocted. Another way to pluck at her heartstrings before skipping away to the next pretty face in sight.

“You deserve better. You deserve more. But I… shit, I want to try. I  _ have  _ to try,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that teased out a soft, throaty whimper from her. The barest, most pleased smirk tugged his lips as he leaned in closer, boldly sweeping a hand along her waist. “... let me?” 

Her mind suddenly went blank, caught in his gaze as he tilted his head and slowly brought his mouth closer to hers. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but swallow as her throat went painfully dry. But he didn’t kiss her. He left his lips hovering close to hers. Torturously close. 

But he refused to make a move, waiting for an answer.

After a couple beats, she let out a gust of air. The softest sigh escaping as her brow furrowed gently. It tickled his chest in the most irresistible way. Spreading warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It was all he needed to hear to breach that final distance, pulling her in closer as he pressed his lips to hers.

She couldn’t stop the muffled moan against his mouth as she kissed him back. Couldn’t remember when her arm had gripped his waist, slowly sliding up his torso. But the rumbling noise of approval that came with it sent her belly fluttering. He hummed contentedly when his tongue coaxed her lips open, slowly rolling her onto her back as she gently caressed it with her own. 

She was so sweet. And so hungry. Hungry for  _ him _ . The way her fingers dug into his back. The way her other hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Every mewl, every soft noise she made as they kissed. Over and over. He’d never heard anything so lovely. He wanted more. 

He wanted it  _ all _ . 

Everything blurred and faded as he pressed his body to hers, and she all but forgot where they were and who might be around to see them. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t put it into words. The way his fingers clasped the side of her neck. The low, barely audible growl every time her tongue teased his. The gasp when she nibbled his lower lip. How warm and familiar he felt against her. Comforting, thrilling and terrifying, all at the same time. The lusty, daydreamy glaze over his eyes when their lips finally parted. 

Both their breaths were heavier, and he only lifted himself just enough to give her the smallest, warmest, most affectionate smile she’d ever seen. He smoothed her hair back lightly, humming thoughtfully to himself as his fingers trailed down her temple and along her jaw. 

“Hm. Should’ve done this sooner,” he commented with a wry smirk, dropping another light kiss onto her lips.

“Definitely,” she agreed breathlessly, rubbing his back with a soft, surprised laugh. 

“Guess I’ll just have to make up for lost time, won’t I?” he grinned, about to bend down and kiss her again, when a loud thrum of magic surrounded them. 

Cú sucked in a sharp breath, very slowly raising his eyes to find a glowering and disgruntled young Gilgamesh standing in front of them. Arms crossed over his chest, deadly blades hovering inside several golden portals.

All aimed at his head. 

“... ah.  _ Shit _ .”

“So. My alters were right about you after all,” the boy spat, his mouth twisted with deep disapproval. “I warned you, hound.”

“My King, it’s fine. I promise,” Eris said hastily, scrambling to get up and sit on her heels. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” 

Gilgamesh wasn’t entirely convinced, though his hard expression softened ever so slightly. “He lied to me. I won’t suffer liars.”

“I didn’t lie. Her honour’s intact. I took nothing that wasn’t freely given,” he said wryly, sitting behind Eris and pressing his chest to her back. 

The King of Heroes’ eyes narrowed shrewdly, his gaze flitting between the Lancer and his Master. “... is this so?” he finally asked warily, dismissing Cú‘s presence entirely as he turned to Eris.

She nodded mutely, cheeks flushed as she offered the smallest, most sheepish smile. “Mhm.”

The boy-king stood stiffly for quite a while as he fell deep into thought, his expression stony and displeased, until finally his features relaxed to normal. “... very well. I suppose it was only a matter of time. You’re too pretty for your own good.”

She nodded again, her smile spreading when young Gil gave her the barest smile of his own. “Kind of you to say, my King.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he waved with mild annoyance, his frown returning as his eyes fell on Cú. “... if you hurt her, I will make you regret it. And no amount of pleading will save you.” 

“I hear you, little king. Loud and clear,” Cú nodded, his lips twitching with barely-veiled amusement. “I won’t.”

“See that you don’t.  _ Now _ . Master promised she’d help me make a sandcastle. Jack and Marie are hopeless with such things. Come,” young Gil huffed, gesturing sharply to her before turning on his heel and sauntering back towards the shore. 

“Yes, my King,” Eris replied obediently, biting her lip and fighting a grin as she watched him. When he was out of earshot she finally let out a stifled chuckle. “He is way more like his older alters than he’d ever admit.”

“Suppose you should go help,” Cú sighed reluctantly, wrapping an arm around her waist as he kissed her shoulder softly. 

“Mhm,” she nodded, leaning back against him with a sigh. 

“Don’t forget your promise. Meet me tonight?” he murmured in her ear, nibbling her earlobe and making a smug noise when she whimpered. “I want you all to myself.”

She shivered as an electric jolt went straight up her spine, squeaking when he kissed her neck teasingly. “Mhm.”

“Alright, go on then. I’ll steal you away after dinner,” he sighed, dropping another kiss on her shoulder before getting to his feet. 

She stood up next to him, biting her lip and taking a last, lingering look before smiling shyly and heading towards the shore. He watched as she joined the others, arms crossed over his chest as gentle waves of heat washed over him. 

He’d broken every promise he’d ever made. Every time.

But maybe, just maybe, he’d make her one he could keep. 

She was worth trying for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/18) Finally got to Cú! Will definitely be adding a part 2 (and probably 3). Have become smitten with the Celt recently, so will likely be writing Cú Alter and Proto Cú stories as well. 
> 
> The list of impending chapters/pairings is growing. Goddammit XD
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Mine (Cú Alter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Berserkers were always the trickiest class for her to bond with. But she knew that with enough time and care, she’d earn their trust. 
> 
> Cú Alter, however, was an entirely different beast. Didn’t matter, she was determined.
> 
> She never could have predicted how events would unfold...

* * *

Eris had always prided herself in being able to bond with every Servant she summoned, no matter their class or alignment between good and evil. She never balked at the time it sometimes took to earn their trust and respect. She knew that if she was careful and persistent, she’d win them over. 

Berserkers were among the most difficult and dangerous to connect with, not that she ever blamed them for their prickly, volatile ways. Tinged with madness or twisted by magic, they often carried stories fraught with manipulation, betrayal and abuse. So she took the most care with them. Determined to show them patience and understanding. A kindness that they were never afforded in life. And eventually, it paid off. 

Eventually.

But there was always one that resisted her efforts. Distrustful and indifferent. One that she couldn’t seem to reach, no matter what she did.

Cú Alter.

He was the complete opposite of his Lancer counterpart, in a way that was as terrifying as it was fascinating. She couldn’t read him for shit. His face was a perpetual blank mask. The only time he showed anything that looked like emotion was when he was irritated or annoyed. His tail would twitch and he’d give her a low, rumbling growl of warning. Otherwise, he grunted in acknowledgement. He said almost nothing. Resisted engaging with her at every turn. 

When she finally successfully pressed him about it, he replied curtly that he didn’t see the point. He was there to be her lance. The only thing he wanted or needed was her direction. 

She should’ve left it at that. Everyone told her to, especially his Lancer alter. He was too dangerous. He’d slit her throat without a thought if she encroached on his space. But the young Master was stubborn. Maybe it was a tiny seed. Maybe it was buried so deep he wasn’t even aware of it, but he _was_ Cú. Maybe he’d never be open and warm like the Lancer, but he didn’t have to be. 

She’d take him being relaxed around her. Being comfortable in her presence. So she persisted. Slowly. Carefully. Over several weeks. She refused to give up. She couldn’t. It simply wasn’t in her.

And finally, just when she was about to throw her hands in the air and give up, something shifted. Barely. Almost indiscernible. 

They rayshifted back after a long day of clearing the latest anomaly, and as Eris stretched her arms out, she squeezed Diarmuid and Mash’s shoulders with a warm smile. “Good job guys. We made a lot of progress today.” 

They smiled appreciatively in response. Mash blushed shyly and Diarmuid squeezed the side of her waist gently before they made their way out. And just as she was about to follow them, she realized that Cú remained behind. 

Frozen.

Staring at her. Expectantly. 

She paused mid-step and cocked her head to the side, an uncertain smile hovering in the corner of her mouth. “... something wrong?” she asked carefully, clasping her hands behind her back. 

His tail twitched, flicking along the floor, but otherwise he looked like a dark, imposing statue. 

He wouldn’t reply, so she stood patiently, assuming eventually something would come out. But it didn’t. So she took a hesitant step forward. 

“... Cú? What is it?” she pressed again gently, noting the sharp inhale as she delicately closed the distance between them. The way his tail slithered casually behind him. Like a cat’s, but what exactly did it mean? Maybe a bit of research on cat tails would help.

Still, he wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t make a sound. The silence grew thicker by the second in the otherwise empty Control Room. So she took another step closer. Warily. Carefully. Looking for the smallest sign of warning. 

Nothing.

“Cú,” she murmured, using the gentlest, most soothing tone she could muster. “What’s going on? I can’t know if you won’t tell me. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

He towered over her, slowly tilting his head as she approached, so he could maintain eye contact. But still nothing.

She wanted to squeeze his forearm. Wanted to give him a hug and reassure him that any offense she’d made was unintentional. But she wasn’t that reckless. She knew all too well that he’d just as soon cut her hand off. So she maintained the usual, established distance between them. One that she’d learned through growls and repetition that she was not permitted to pass.

She was just on the edge of the invisible circle when she inhaled slowly and deeply, giving him a furtive smile, even as he towered over her stoically.

Then finally, as his eyes continued to pierce hers, he spoke. “You praise them.”

She nodded. 

“You don’t praise me.”

A gasp caught in her throat as realization slowly sunk in. Was he feeling left out? It never occurred to her. In the beginning she always thanked him for his hard work, which he always dismissed with an annoyed _tch_. He told her there was no need. He was her weapon to use in battle. So eventually she stopped. 

Was he feeling differently now?

“I’m sorry, Cú. You did a wonderful job. You always do. I can always rely on you in battle to get the job done, and done well,” she smiled warmly, tilting her head and noting the way his tail swished back and forth. Did that mean he was pleased? His expression hadn’t changed.

She stood awkwardly in front of him for a while, then assuming that was all he wanted, she slowly turned on her heel. 

“Stop.” 

It was a command, not a request. Not that he ever requested anything. But she froze nonetheless, turning back around to him. “... yes?” she asked softly, painting another small smile on her face. 

“You touched them. You don’t touch me.”

She couldn’t stop her head jerking at the matter-of-fact tone, eyebrows immediately knitted together. Touch? He wanted her to touch him? To squeeze his shoulder the way she had with the others? _Really_?? 

“... you want me to?” she asked, unable to hide the bewilderment in her voice. “I didn’t think you’d--”

Before she could finish her sentence, he slowly bent down. Just enough that his shoulder was in reach, eyes steady on her in a way that made her shiver. 

Holy shit. He was letting her in. Even a fraction. Even briefly. She never thought he’d…

She sighed softly and smiled, taking the silent cue and squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry Cú,” she murmured, her body relaxing despite every sense screaming that she should run. Take several steps back. “I didn’t mean to leave you out. It won’t happen again, I promise. You are just as important as everyone else, and I need you just much.”

Suddenly a sound tickled her ears. A sound she’d never heard from the Berserker. It was low. Rumbling. Throaty. Almost like a purr. Something in it made her stomach roll and wriggle. 

… in a surprisingly pleasant way.

“Shall we go?” she asked hesitantly, continuing to rub his shoulder idly as his tail tapped the floor. 

He leaned in closer for a moment and sniffed near her neck, almost curiously, before standing up straight again. “Yes.”

She nodded silently and turned around, noting how closely he trailed behind her. How his shadow engulfed her as she walked. She couldn’t fight the smallest, most pleased smile as they left the room, the tiniest flutter catching in her throat. 

Maybe she was making progress after all.

  
  


The next few weeks went by pretty uneventfully, but she was true to her word. Anytime she brought Cú Alter with her, she made sure to praise him and squeeze or pat his arm. His tail would swish, that rumbling purr would hit her ears, and her belly would flutter faintly. 

Naively, she assumed that would be the end of it. That would be as far as he’d let her in. Which to her mind was still way further than she could’ve predicted. 

But then things shifted again. 

She wasn’t sure what sparked it. Then again, she could never really tell with the Berserker, although she had looked up the language of cat tails. It sort of helped. 

She started seeing him around Chaldea more, which was highly unusual. And the way she saw him was even more disconcerting. He never spoke to the others. Still refused to engage wherever possible. But slowly, she began to see him everywhere. 

Everywhere she went. 

Watching. 

Waiting?

Always at a distance. Almost out of sight but never quite enough. Always meeting her gaze the few times she dared to meet his eyes. Silent. Steady. Predatory somehow, despite his face remaining a stony mask.

Sometimes it scared her. Sometimes it intrigued her. But her instincts told her to leave him be. Don’t approach. Don’t question. Maybe it was his way of being protective? Watching over her? An intimidating and twisted way to show that maybe he cared in some small way?

She found the answer more quickly than she thought. 

One afternoon when she was heading to her room, book in hand. There was something in the air in Chaldea, and her Servants seemed more eager for her attention than usual. And while she was happy to indulge them as best she could, she was an introvert at heart. Her battery ran out pretty quickly and she retreated from the Rec Room, in desperate need of some quiet recharging.

The hall was empty as she reached her door, but just as it slid open, a voice spoke behind her. 

_Right behind her._

“Stop.”

Her heart seized and she froze like a deer in headlights. How the hell had he snuck up on her like that? How had she not heard him? “... Cú? What’s up?” she asked lightly, though she couldn’t quite steady the light tremor in her voice as the Berserker loomed over her. His tail swishing languorously from side to side. 

“Let me inside.” Blunt. Terse. Almost growly. But not in the usual warning way. No it was… something else. She couldn’t put a pin on it.

Her brain froze and she hesitated at the command. She was comfortable with him in the field. Never flinched if he came close. Wasn’t bothered by the way he occasionally sniffed her when she gave him a small gesture of affection. 

But alone? In her room? Where no one would see, no one would know? What if he lost his temper? What if she accidentally pressed a button and he swiped at her with his claws thoughtlessly? What could she do? She was utterly defenseless. 

Her racing thoughts were interrupted when Cú smacked his tail loudly against the floor, flicking with agitation as he growled warningly. 

“Let. Me. _In_.” 

“Of course, Cú. I’m sorry. Come on,” she murmured soothingly, looking up at him with a small, hesitant smile as she rubbed his forearm. His tail immediately relaxed, going back to slithering back and forth as he followed her through the door.

She took a seat on the edge of her bed, clasping her hands on her lap neatly. “What’s up?” she asked with a soft smile, determined to stay calm and composed, despite the way he silently dwarfed her. 

He slowly crossed his arms over his chest and observed her, a combination of his silence and the heat radiating off him thickening the air. But just when her toes started to curl in her shoes with anxiety, he inhaled slowly. “I’ve been watching you.”

“I noticed,” she said with a wry smile, keeping a discreet eye on his tail, inwardly sighing in relief as it swished lazily. 

“With the other Cú.” 

“... mhm,” she nodded slowly, brow furrowed as she maintained eye contact. She had no idea where he was going with this.

“You like him.” Another simple statement of fact. Devoid of any inflection or emotion.

“Of course, I like all of you,” she smiled easily, shrugging as she tapped her fingers on her knees. 

Cú pursed his lips ever so slightly. It was probably the first time she’d seen his face show any expression, although she didn’t know what it meant. “You allow him close to you. To touch you. He rests his head in your lap while you read.” 

A lightbulb suddenly went off in her brain, then immediately splintered into a thousand pieces. 

… what? He-- was he implying he wanted to-- 

_What_??

She swallowed hard, knowing better than to question him. Knowing that no matter how shocking, that was _exactly_ what he was saying. She let out a soft, doubtful hum before slowly scooting back on the bed and moving to the far end. He watched her intently, his tail tapping the floor gently. She inhaled deeply and shakily before patting her lap and smiling at him. 

He sniffed the air carefully before his arms relaxed at his sides and he approached. There was a menacing undertone in his movements, but she’d learned long ago it was simply his normal. He sat on the other side of the bed, eyes drifting along her face, and then down her body. What he was taking note of, she had no clue. 

But eventually, and surprisingly carefully, he lowered himself. Curled up on his side and gently rested his head in her lap. She felt a sudden flurry of butterflies in her stomach, along with a heart-clenching warmth, seeing him so relaxed. So close. Closer than she ever thought he’d let her. And what’s more, he wanted it. Practically demanded it. 

Just when she thought she’d seen it all…

She instinctively brushed a hand along the side of his head, while the other rubbed his upper arm gently. “... better?” she finally murmured, eyes glimmering when he closed his eyes. 

He only responded with a loud, rumbling purr. Her heart squeezed painfully tight and she let out a wistful sigh, stroking his hair lightly. 

They stayed like that for several minutes. Rubbing his arm and stroking his hair, while he growl-purred like a contented lion. Eventually her legs began to tingle, pinpricks running along them. And it was clear by the way his body melted against the bed that he had no intention of leaving anytime soon. 

“Cú,” she whispered softly, receiving a quiet grunt in response. “I’ve got to move. My legs are starting to go numb.”

His tail flicked dangerously and he growled angrily, clasping a clawed hand around her left knee tightly.

“We don’t have to stop,” she said reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll just change positions.”

An irritated _tch_ left his lips, and though his claw relaxed a bit, he still didn’t let her go. 

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she teased gently, nudging his shoulder. “Sit up. It’ll only take a second.”

He slowly turned his head to look up at her, cracking one eye open and watching her warily. 

“I know, it’s nice isn’t it?” she smiled warmly, boldly caressing his jaw and feeling a flutter when he purred quietly in response. “Let me move and you can have more.”

He made another annoyed click of his tongue, leaning his face into her hand resentfully before sitting up. Watching her like a wild and wary animal. Still distrustful, no matter how close he’d let her get. 

She flexed her feet and shook her legs out gently with a relieved sigh. Then she stacked her pillows behind her and slumped against them. She patted her stomach with a small smile. “Okay, head here. Need to get some feeling back into my legs.”

He tilted his head, noting she was stretched out lengthways, before finally sliding further up and curling around her. He laid his head gently on her stomach, humming contentedly and closing his eyes again when she began rubbing his back. 

“See? Told you you could have more,” she sighed, scratching the top of his scalp lightly and giving a scrunch-nosed smile when his tail casually and loosely wrapped around her lower legs. 

He grunted in assent, snaking an arm around her upper thigh, gently kneading it with his claws. She stifled a soft mewl, feeling her heart burst at just how comfortable he was. How much trust he gave her in this moment. How content he was for having done it. She never thought her efforts would pay off quite like this. And something about his low, chesty growling soothed her. The heat radiating off him kept her deliciously warm. Relaxed her just as much as her stroking relaxed him. 

She didn’t know how much she’d needed it. After feeling burned out from a full day of socializing, this was somehow the perfect way for _both_ of them to recharge. She hadn’t meant to drift off, but eventually she did. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she was gently stirred by the sound of chesty purrs in her ear, and a heavy weight on her torso that hadn’t been there when she fell asleep. She groaned quietly, slowly blinking her eyes when she realized that Cú was stretched across her, his face buried in her neck. He didn’t appear to be sleeping, with the way his claws continued to gently knead her flesh. One hand just above her right hip, and the other tucked underneath her left shoulder blade. 

And she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she wrapped her arms around his back, rubbing it gently. “Sorry, looks like I fell asleep on you,” she whispered in his ear, kissing the side of his head impulsively. “Too relaxed.” 

He didn’t say anything, didn’t stop rumbling, though his nails did dig into her flesh. Just a tiny bit. Enough to let her know that he heard her. 

She craned her neck to look at the clock, sighing wearily when she saw the time. “Mm. Dinnertime. We should get up,” she murmured, squeezing the side of his waist. 

His tail tightened around her lower legs and he growled warningly, his claws digging deeper into her clothes, nearly piercing them. 

“I’ve got to eat, Cú,” she replied softly, feeling fluttery and shivery rather than scared at his agitated display. “Come on, let me go.” 

He snarled again, almost sounding sulky as his arms tightened around her. 

“I know, you need more,” she smiled, scratching the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head. “You can have more after I’ve eaten, okay?”

He snorted softly in response, leaning into her kisses, but wouldn’t budge.

“Can we find a compromise?” she asked hopefully, smiling when he tilted his head towards her, just enough for her to hear a wary sniff. “What would you like in order to let me go?” 

He began kneading her side again, almost thoughtfully as he considered her question. But eventually he let out a short annoyed huff.

He didn’t know. 

“What if… I had dinner and then came back here?” 

A snort followed.

“Okay. What if… you came with me to eat?” 

A soft grumble.

“Um. Well. I could… sit in your lap while I ate?” Her words were stilted and doubtful. Unsure he’d even want that. Unsure if she wanted that. There was no way it wouldn’t attract attention. Shocked, jaw-dropping stares. Impossible-to-answer questions. 

But she was walking a fine line. The sharpest, finest line. No amount of purring changed how wild and dangerous he was. And he’d let her in so close. There was no way she’d screw this up. Not after seeing how impossibly soft and almost sweet he could be.

He fell quiet for several moments before finally sniffing and sitting up. “... fine.”

“See? Knew we’d come up with something,” she smiled, groaning and stretching before sitting up. It was a bit challenging given his tail remained wrapped around her legs. 

“And then we come back here,” he said with a quick, low growl, arching an eyebrow meaningfully. 

Holy shit, his face moved. _Again_.

“Yes. And then we can come back here,” she nodded affirmatively, her smile widening when the corner of his mouth twitched. She almost missed it. Then very slowly it curved. Just barely. The smallest, stingiest smirk.

In the blink of an eye, he scooped her up with an arm, propping her against his hip as he stood up. She squeaked in surprise, bracing an arm around his shoulder, and blinked at him stupidly. He stared into her eyes, his face back to its usual neutrality, when his arm tightened around her. Just a bit. 

“ _Mine_.”

Not a command. Not a question. Not a request. A simple statement of fact.

She should’ve balked. Been offended. Protested indignantly. Maybe even been repulsed and terrified. Instead, she found herself pushing her lips to the side, sighing shakily as she rested her head on his shoulder. “... yup.”

He rumbled in a way she understood as being pleased, his tail slowly and affectionately curling around her legs, before heading out of her room and towards the cafeteria. 

A bare smile hanging off his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/18/21) I had no intention of posting another chapter this fast but uh... this one just came spilling out like a waterfall haha 
> 
> Cú Alter is totally not fighting to be my new fave lol Hope you liked!


	10. Heartache (Saber Diarmuid/Yandere)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the moment he was summoned, Diarmuid made it obvious that there was only one person on his mind. And it wasn't his Master.
> 
> She shouldn't have been so wrinkled about his lack of focus. But enough was enough. If she couldn't snap him out of his reverie, she'd just leave him behind to his own devices. Little did she know that giving her Saber the cold shoulder would do more than get his attention. 
> 
> She'd steal it completely.

* * *

She probably shouldn’t have been as annoyed as she was. She was probably making a bigger deal out of it than she needed to. It’s not like she required or even wanted blind devotion from her Servants. She didn’t care what attachments they had with each other, past or present. She wasn’t vying for anyone’s heart. There were no tender feelings to be hurt. 

But Diarmuid was pissing her off. 

Royally. 

From the moment she summoned the Saber, the King of Knights was the only other thing he talked about besides training. He didn’t mean to. She could see that. The way he dropped her name at every opportunity. The way his eyes glimmered. The way his chest lifted when he thought of fighting her. Such deep admiration. 

But oh yeah, he was her sword. He’d be with her till the end! ‘The end’. Whatever that meant.

Once in a while he remembered that. 

After all that effort. Weeks and weeks of building his strength. Ascending him. Foolishly attempting to bond with him on a meaningful level. And all she got was a flowery version of ‘Thanks, can’t wait for Artoria to see this. Can’t wait to fight her. Isn’t she the best thing since sliced bread? Oh yeah, guess you’re here’. 

Could he be more ungrateful?

It wasn’t as if Artoria reciprocated the admiration. She appeared to like and respect her fellow Saber, but not to the degree he did. It became borderline awkward more than once. Especially if Eris happened to be in the same room. But it was fine. It happened much more rarely since she started avoiding the Saber altogether.

She had Artoria, she had other Sabers. She had a large roster of Servants who were focused on the task at hand. Who were actually grateful for the energy and attention she poured into them. Let him train to heart’s content. Let him spar with Artoria whenever he liked. She didn’t need him. And at this point, she didn’t even want him. If she could un-summon a Servant, he’d be the first to go. There were more important things going on. She didn’t need the dead weight. 

It took a while before people began to notice Diarmuid’s absence in the field. The young Master rotated everyone regularly at an even clip. She never leaned on anyone too heavily. The weight of humanity was spread out equally amongst all of them. 

All but one. 

It took even longer before Eris’ general avoidance of the Saber became obvious. She refused to behave outwardly childish or petty. She always had a good excuse to leave or not join the Servants if he was there. If they crossed paths, she smiled and nodded as always. As warmly as she could muster. 

But eventually, much later, Diarmuid realized it’d been a long time since he’d visited an anomaly or gone farming with his Master. Surely it was an oversight. She was under an incredible amount of stress and pressure. It must have just slipped her mind. There was no way it was done on purpose. She’d never excluded anyone before. If he gave her a gentle reminder, there was no doubt she’d bring him with her tomorrow to make up for her error.

Eris could usually be found in the Rec Room or Cafeteria when she was working or researching. But lately she’d been cloistered in her room. Understandable. Some of the Servants could be especially needy and disruptive when their Master was in sight, ignoring when she needed quiet and focus. 

After a bout of sparring with Artoria, he made the long walk to his Master’s room, and knocked on the door cheerfully. 

Eris started at the sound, looking up from her tablet with a furrowed frown. Who could it be? “Come in,” she called out, placing the data pad on her lap and tilting her head, her lips unconsciously pursing when the handsome knight stepped inside with a small smile. 

“I’m sorry to disturb, Master. I only need a brief moment of your time,” he said gently, offering a polite nod of his head. 

She inhaled slowly and deeply, closing her eyes and centering herself for a moment before she forced a smile on her face. “Of course. What is it?”

“It occurred to me that you haven’t been bringing me out lately. In fact, I realized it’s been over a month. I don’t mean to complain, I know there are a lot of us now, but I thought I should make you aware of the oversight,” he explained warmly, his chest puffing up slightly. As though proud of himself for communicating so diplomatically.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly before they dropped back to her data pad. “It wasn’t an oversight.”

Diarmuid jerked his head, eyes widening with shock. “... what? You’ve… Master, you’ve been purposely leaving me behind?”

“Yes. And it only took you a month to notice,” she said dryly, lips twitching downwards despite her best efforts. “You’ve been doing an excellent job of staying focused on other things. I think it’s fine to leave things as they are. I have a large enough roster, and other Sabers I can rely on.”

She heard the sharp inhale, and couldn’t help but feel a dirty smear of satisfaction as she kept her eyes on the tablet. It wasn’t right, and she knew it. She’d _never_ lashed out at any of her Servants before. Well, except for the Gils. But they were an obvious and understandable exception.

“Master, I… I don’t understand. I answered your summon. I came to help. I _want_ to help. We’ve never-- _you’ve_ never--” he spluttered, his cheeks flushing as a bewildered and hurt expression contorted his face. 

“-- Did you? I used to think so, but I’m not convinced anymore. _I_ think you came for other reasons. Reasons that have slowly chipped away at my ability to trust or rely on you as a Servant. But as I said, it’s fine. Until our quest is done, consider yourself a free agent. You can pursue whatever truly matters to you. You have my blessing,” she said placidly, giving him a short dismissive wave before scrolling down as she read her latest report. 

Diarmuid stood frozen in front of her, mouth gaped open in shock as he stared at her. Calm. Cold. Indifferent. He’d never seen her like this before. In fact, he would’ve thought it impossible. She’d never been anything but warm. Kind. Considerate. How could she-- had he really failed her so miserably that she…?

“Master, please. What have I done to make you--” he pleaded gently, a small worm of guilt and regret squirming in his belly. “I assure you, I don’t want--”

“-- you _must_ be joking. Are you _that_ lacking in self-awareness? You have _no_ idea what you could’ve possibly done? You, who took a _month_ to even notice anything was amiss? And what exactly have you been doing in that month, _knight_?” She couldn’t stop the anger and resentment from bubbling up when she finally raised her head to meet his eyes. Couldn’t stop herself from spitting the title out. Couldn’t stop how hard she gripped the data pad. 

Diarmuid let out a gust of air, caught in her vice-like gaze. Vibrant blue-green eyes that once reminded him of the Mediterranean now left him shivering in an arctic storm. He felt every word like an arrow to his chest, and his mind raced to understand what was behind the barely contained venom in her tone. 

As he struggled to make sense of it, she snorted derisively and dropped her attention. “Why don’t you take the next month off to figure it out? No need to strain yourself.”

He let out a quiet, pained groaned, shaking his head desperately. A month? How could it have taken him a month to-- what had he been--

… and then it dawned on him. A long, drawn-out, guilty sigh escaped his lips as he hung his head and closed his eyes. 

The King of Knights. 

The person he spent more time with than any other. The Saber that Eris leaned on more heavily in his absence. He’d noticed there was less time for them to train together. He hadn’t realized-- the King had picked up his slack. Never said a word about it either. Never let him know. And why should she? 

It was _his_ failure. _His_ responsibility to notice. _His_ lesson to learn. 

Artoria shielded both him and their Master with her silence and selfless cooperation. With the added burden she carried for all of them. 

“Master…” he murmured softly, silently pleading for her to meet his eyes. She wouldn’t. “... I’m so sorry.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but it’s hollow,” she huffed, her spine loosening a smidge. “It’s not as though I was shocked by your behavior. It’s been this way from the start. After all, _you’re_ the one who told me you were treasonous. Your mind has always been elsewhere. Why should I expect that to change?” 

He flinched at the sand-papery bluntness to her words. Distant. Removed. Unfeeling. He couldn’t quite get over the shock. They’d spent several months living and fighting side by side. He thought he knew her. Understood her. He couldn’t deny he was distracted, but he thought he’d still been serving her faithfully. 

… which sounded more ridiculous the more he thought about it. How could he be loyal when there was always another in the back of his mind? After all his Master had done. For humanity. For her Servants. The tireless hours spent farming. Leveling all of them up. Ascending them. And he was one of the first to be fully ascended. She did it without complaint. With a perpetual, genuine smile on her face. 

And how did he thank her? How did he return her consideration and hard work? 

… he was such a fool.

“I see now. I failed you miserably from the start. After all you’ve done. Please, give me the chance to redeem myself. I won’t fail you again, I promise. On whatever honour I have left as a knight. _Your_ knight.” 

He said it so earnestly. So gently. So full of remorse. She couldn’t help but soften a little more. She sighed tiredly and put her tablet to the side, finally getting to her feet and looking at him. Really looked at him. Sorrow and shame painted every corner of his otherwise unnaturally perfect and alluring features. 

“... I was too harsh. I let my temper get the better of me,” Eris said finally, squeezing his arm lightly. “You’re not a terrible person _or_ a terrible Servant, Dia. I just… I need to be able to rely on you. I’ve tried everything to get through to-- I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

His face immediately lit up at her touch, his eyes glistened at the tiny smile that tugged on her lips. “You have nothing to apologize for, Master. I’m the only one to blame. You’ve all had to carry more than your share because of me. Nothing will occupy my mind except you and our mission from now on.”

She groaned and chuckled, patting his arm before crossing hers over her chest. “It’s fine. No need to go to extremes. You should still have a life of your own. I just want you focused in the field, that’s all.” 

“I will be,” he said breathlessly, his heart catching when her eyes crinkled a bit more as her smile widened. 

They were beautiful eyes, weren’t they? Not a common blue. Curtained by such long, thick lashes. And warm. They’d always been so warm. He’d taken it for granted. But after seeing how icy cold they could be-- no. No, he wanted to stay in that warmth. To see her smile at him the way she used to. The full lips that curved so easily and effortlessly whenever they crossed paths. 

He would do whatever it took.

He couldn’t bear to be shut out again.

“I’m glad to hear it. This was… just kind of awful, wasn’t it? Let’s just start over, how’s that?” she asked brightly, feeling the aftermath of guilt wash over her at recalling how hurt and remorseful he looked under her ire. “Clean slate.”

He didn’t mean to be that way. Of course he didn’t. She knew it. She always had. 

“Yes, I would like that very much,” he agreed, perhaps a bit too eagerly, though his smile remained small and hopeful. 

“Alright. Consider it done. No grudges, no dredging up the past. Water under the bridge,” she nodded, sucking in a breath when he suddenly clasped her arms and pulled her in a bit closer. 

“You are the kindest, most considerate, most generous Master I could ever have. I _am_ grateful to be here, with you,” he murmured, his smile deepening in a way that made her stomach suddenly flutter.

“Dia, it’s-- it’s okay. We’re okay. Don’t worry about it,” she said shakily, impulsively leaning and wrapping her arms around his waist in a firm hug. 

His heart skipped several beats, and he melted against her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips on the top of her head. “What could I possibly worry about, with my Master so near to me?” he murmured with a smile, giving her a gentle squeeze before she pulled away. There was a sudden, sharp pang in his chest as the distance increased between them, slight as it was.

“Well I’ve got to finish these reports before tonight’s over. But why don’t I schedule you for tomorrow’s outing?” she asked, placing her hands behind her back and smiling brightly.

Diarmuid nodded, offering a small, almost sheepish smile before reluctantly turning for the door. “I would appreciate it. I’ll be ready.” 

Over the next couple weeks Diarmuid was back in the regular rotation and Eris slowly made herself more social and available like she used to. It seemed like everything was going smoothly. She figured in a couple more weeks, things would go back to the way they were. 

But they didn’t. Not exactly. 

Diarmuid was true to his word. He was focused in battle. He stopped dropping the King of Knights’ name from his lips every hour. And though he still sparred with her, it was far less frequently. But what was he doing instead? 

Slowly taking up as much of his Master’s time and company as she’d allow. And though she dismissed it as guilty but adorable behavior, it became obvious that it wasn’t dying down. 

If anything, it was intensifying. 

Whatever fixation the Saber had with the King of Knights had somehow slipped onto her shoulders. And while part of her couldn’t help but be flattered, the other part was becoming increasingly concerned. This hadn’t been her intended result. Did his behavior really have anything to do with her? Or was it just his innate need to have a single goal, a single focus, and her outburst had inadvertently made her the new target? 

She wasn’t sure if there was a way she could really tell.

But she could never quite stop him, even if she knew she probably should. Just on the off chance that somehow it _was_ about her. Not just some mirror illusion he’d built up in his mind. He went from being friendly but distracted to warm and considerate. Attentive and practically doting. He made it impossible _not_ to enjoy being under his spotlight. 

Besides, could she really deny that she hadn’t always wanted the soft, ardent affection of a breath-takingly handsome, honest, velvety-voiced man? 

Nope. Not even if she tried. 

So despite her better judgment, she allowed him in. Closer and closer.

One afternoon, Eris found herself stretched out on the couch, reading up on the latest anomaly. Her head rested securely in Diarmuid’s lap while he gently threaded his fingers through her hair. 

“... I look forward to these moments now,” he murmured softly, not wanting to interrupt her concentration. “Just the two of us.”

She made a quiet noise of acknowledgement as she scrolled up on the tablet, feeling a faint wriggle in her stomach. “Yeah, it’s been… nice.”

“More than,” he argued insistently, bending down to drop a light kiss on her forehead. “It’s been nothing short of wonderful.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, just a bit,” she replied with a wry smile, flushing at the way his fingers caressed her cheek. 

“I’m not. I deserved to be shut out. But you gave me a chance to redeem myself. Allowing me close to you is the only reward I could ever want,” he smiled, brushing his thumb along her jaw as he dropped another kiss onto her. 

“... is this a love spot thing?” she laughed embarrassedly, scrunching her nose at being lavished with affection. “You’re smooth as butter.”

Diarmuid frowned slightly, mildly offended by the question. “I would never use magic to coerce you, Master. My sentiments are genuine.”

“I don’t know, Dia. It’s kind of… it’s a bit off, if I’m being honest. Not that I’m not enjoying the attention. But it’s kind of sudden. You’ve never--”

“-- I didn’t realize what I had until I almost lost it,” he murmured guiltily, trailing his fingers along her neck thoughtfully. “I took your warmth and kindness for granted. I couldn’t bear being left in the cold again.” 

She felt his quiet words pierce her deeply and she sighed, slowly sitting up to face him with an apologetic smile. “Dia, we’ve talked about this. It’s over and done with. I was wrong to lash out. You don’t have to worry. It won’t happen again.”

“I know it won’t. I won’t ever give you a reason to,” he smiled affectionately, pulling her into his lap and nuzzling her neck. 

Eris huffed and slumped against him, scratching her cheek as she tried to find a different way to approach the subject. “I’m confident you won’t. But you know, you don’t have to-- I wasn’t mad because I was jealous, or harboured--”

“-- Why are you fretting, Master? Have I not made my feelings for you clear?” he asked with a wavering frown, running his thumb down her chin. “I only want to care for you. Be close to you. And only you.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” she groaned, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “It’s just--”

“-- I think the way you resist is answer enough that it’s not my love spot,” he teased, tickling the side of her waist and smiling when she chuckled.

“... guess not,” she sighed ruefully, still not confident that something else wasn’t going on.

“What do I need to do to prove that my devotion is genuine?” he asked, humming contentedly when she hid her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist loosely. 

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, struggling between wishful thinking and cold logic. _Something_ was off. Something wasn’t quite right. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Maybe you’re just over-worked. You shouldn’t push yourself as hard as you do. Why don’t you take another day off? Then I can pamper you properly,” he suggested as he rubbed her back, his voice rich and smooth in a way that sent shivers up her spine. 

“I don’t know,” she huffed, sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. What was wrong with her? Was she crazy? She had one of the most handsome men _in existence_ fawning over her. Why wasn’t she jumping at the chance? 

“I could bring you breakfast in bed. We could spend the day watching your favourite anime. Cuddle on the couch. I could convince Emiya to make your favorite food for dinner. We could eat alone, just the two of us. I could draw you a scented bubble bath. Give you a massage after. Litter you in kisses and hold you while you sleep. Doesn’t that sound nice?” His voice was gentle and coaxing as he murmured huskily in her ear, and she found her willpower weakening with every suggestion.

“... sounds amazing,” she sighed defeatedly, nuzzling his neck and nestling closer. As though somehow it would make her feel more confident about his true motivations. 

It didn’t.

“Then why don’t we do that? I enjoy spoiling you. You don’t allow yourself enough time to relax. I’m determined to keep you happy and content,” he smiled, squeezing her gently and keeping her tight against him.

“... okay,” she mumbled glumly, almost afraid to let him go. It felt like a dream. A wispy, fuzzy dream. She worried about how harsh the reality would be. Because dreams never lasted. Not forever.

Diarmuid sighed happily, covering her neck and shoulder in kisses, forcing a stifled laugh out of her. “Good. There’s no need to feel guilty, Master. You deserve to be pampered and treated like a princess. And I’m happy to have that privilege.”

“Ugh, you’re too much,” she laughed again, shyly kissing his neck, smiling to herself at the wistful, breathy noise that it elicited. 

“I’m not nearly enough. But I’m happy to do what I must to be worthy of your affections. I will wait as long as I must to make you mine,” he quipped warmly, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her out of the Rec Room. “Now. I think that’s enough work for you today. You had a grueling farming session yesterday, you must be achey and stiff. Why don’t you let your knight give you a massage? Then you can have a short nap before dinner.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, feeling impotent at how easily he was sweeping her off her feet. Even still, there was a stubborn shred of uncertainty. It was too good to be true.

 _H_ _e_ was too good to be true.

He walked at a languorous pace, humming happily to himself as they finally made it down the corridor towards her quarters. “May I have a kiss now?” he asked sweetly, looking down at her with an impish smile. 

“Mhm,” she said wryly, clasping the back of his neck and moaning quietly against his lips as he kissed her slowly and warmly. 

“You’ll see in time, Master. I’ll prove it,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her once more before reluctantly pulling away and heading inside her room. “You are the only one I want. The only one I will _ever_ want...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/20) Welp. There's not enough Yandere Diarmuid in the world, and it's become a guilty pleasure of mine, so here's some more! Haha
> 
> Not entirely sure what's coming next. On the more immediate list are: Edmond Pt. 2, Ozy Pt. 2, Solomon Pt. 3, Proto Cu Pt. 1 and Berserker Cu Pt. 2.
> 
> ... okay nvm, I think it might be Berserker Cu Pt. 2 next. Want to see how everyone else reacts. And how HE reacts to everyone's reactions LOL
> 
> If you've got any votes or requests, let me know! There's still another handful of others to do that aren't listed (Arthur, Achilles (?), Hector (?), more CasGil and Archer Gil, Lancer Cu Pt. 2, Diarmuid Pt. 2...)


	11. Mine Pt. 2 (Cú Alter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaldea's young Master had a LOT of explaining to do. 
> 
> Why was she sitting in Berserker's lap? Why was his tail wrapped around her legs? Why was he nuzzling her neck?
> 
> _And why was he purring??_

* * *

“... sooooo. Think we should probably acknowledge the elephant in the room. Or should I say… the big old dragon-tailed Berserker in the room,” Proto Cú said awkwardly, turning to his other companions with a bewildered look. 

“Yes, I think it’s fair to say this is… _unexpected_ ,” Merlin said, arching his eyebrow meaningfully. He immediately cleared his throat when a pair of red eyes lasered in on him, narrowing dangerously. 

“Yeaaaaaaaah. Yeah,” Eris nodded slowly with a stilted, weak laugh, cheeks flushed and lips pursed as she attempted to dish out her supper. 

While perched on top of Berserker Cú’s lap. Who nuzzled her neck at random intervals. His arms securely around her waist, and his tail wrapped around both their legs. To ensure she couldn’t leave.

Not concerning. 

_Not_ a concerning development.

“So, can you expl— what?” the youngest Cú laughed cluelessly, his smile disappearing when the Berserker glowered at him. “I mean, I’m not judging! I’m not saying you’re— I’m not-- I’m just… well. I mean, aren’t we _all_ a bit curious?”

A chorus of reluctant agreeing noises followed from the other Servants at the table. All except one.

Lancer.

He watched his Master and his alter silently, lips pursed as he dropped his eyes to his food. His features strained in a way they hadn’t been before.

Eris opened her mouth to reply, but found herself at a loss for words. Shivering when the Berserker ran his teeth delicately along her neck. Not sure what that was supposed to mean. But the low rumble vibrating against her back seemed to indicate he was content. And completely dismissive of the gape-mouthed Servants around them. They may as well have been alone in the cafeteria. 

_But they weren’t._

And then a hand slid down to stroke the side of her thigh, gently kneading it. Her face quickly turned red and she coughed, unable to meet anyone’s quizzical gaze. After several beats of tense silence, except for the Berserker’s low, nearly inaudible rumbling, she finally let out a pained noise and shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. This is… I don’t know,” she finally said, picking up her bowl and wrapping some ramen noodles around her chopsticks. “I’m just trying to eat dinner. That’s the only thing I’m certain of right now.”

The others nodded slowly, sharing in their Master’s confusion. 

“I’m jealous,” Medb huffed, pouting slightly as she watched the Berserker press his nose against Eris’ hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, making a soft throaty noise of approval, and the queen sighed wistfully. “He’s never let me that close.”

“Because you stink,” the Berserker said tersely, not bothering to look at Medb, and instead tilted his head and snorted at Eris’ full bowl. “You eat too slow.”

“I do not!” Medb exclaimed with an adorable frown, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I literally just started,” Eris laughed in protest, elbowing him gently before taking another bite. “If I eat any faster I’ll make myself sick.”

“You _do_ ,” the Berserker replied dryly, giving Medb the briefest side glance, and pursed his lips subtly. “Sickeningly sweet. It’s unnatural.”

“It’s a very, _very_ light perfume!” the girl argued, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. “I’ve only ever gotten compliments about it. The other Cús seem to like it.”

“They don’t have my sense of smell. It’s repulsive,” Cú muttered annoyedly under his breath, his eyebrows gathering subtly as his younger alter stared at him, transfixed. “... what?”

“Nothing! I don’t know, I’m just… surprised. Never thought you’d be the type to-- not that I blame you. I mean, I can see it. Master would probably be my first choice too. Guess we have that in common,” Proto Cú nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

Eris choked as she took a spoonful of broth and coughed, her cheeks turning bright red. “I uh… um… thank you? But I mean, it’s not like that,” she said, her tone becoming more doubtful the higher the young lancer arched his eyebrow.

“... oh, Master. _It_ _is_. I mean he’s way more— but yeah. Look at him. He’s claimed you,” Proto laughed, scratching the side of his neck embarrassedly. “I mean, it’s what I’d do. Not like _this_ , but…”

Berserker only responded with a quiet, husky chuckle, nipping the side of her neck with amusement at the strangled noise she made. 

Eris blinked stupidly as her brain temporarily fritzed out. Wait, what? No. _No_. It wasn’t— they were just— when he said—

… oh dear. 

Between the growling and purring and tail and claws, she’d kind of seen him as a grumpy, oversized dragon-cat during their time alone. A dangerous wild animal that she’d come to have an understanding with. It was weird but also kind of adorable and incredibly heartwarming. 

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was _attracted—_ was he? _Really_?

“ _Eat_ ,” the Berserker murmured in her ear impatiently, the gravel in his voice sending faint pulses straight to her nethers. “I want to leave. Medb is staring. I _hate_ when she stares.”

She shivered and nodded, clearing her throat and dropping her eyes back to the ramen. She attempted to keep eating, but it was pretty difficult with a dozen eyes on her. Focused on the way Berserker wrapped an arm around her and gently kneaded her upper torso in a surprisingly soothing manner, tail tapping casually on the floor behind them. 

“I don’t know, it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? The stoic, merciless Mad King, being tamed by our soft, sweet and willful Master. Something right out of a fairytale, isn’t it?” Marie quipped brightly, leaning her elbows on the table, and propping her head up with a dreamy sigh. “I’m almost envious.”

“I’m not some beast to be tamed,” the Berserker muttered, even as he nipped Eris’ shoulder.

“I didn’t mean-- although you _do_ growl and purr…” Marie frowned thoughtfully, tapping her fingers on her cheek. “Maybe not a beast, but it’s--- hm. _Primal_.”

He only answered with an annoyed _tch_ , pressing a single finger into Eris’ side sharply. He wanted to leave. He hated friendly conversation. And he hated being the subject of it even more. She didn’t blame him. So did she.

“It _does_ bring up a lot of questions, doesn’t it?” Merlin mused to himself, tapping his chin distractedly as he watched them. “I mean, the size difference alone--”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that. Hard not to, really,” the young Cú whispered, leaning towards the mage. Though not quietly enough. “Master’s so petite, and _he’s_ so--”

“-- Stop!” she squawked, eyes wide as saucers, her cheeks turning bright red. For the third or fourth time. Every time she thought she couldn’t be more embarrassed... “Could we _not_ , please?”

The Grand Caster shrugged innocently, slurping a noodle with glittering eyes. “What? It’s a valid concern. If you need any assistance--”

“-- _Not_ a concern. _No_ assistance needed. Can we please talk about something else?!” she exclaimed, a muddle of panic and mortification swirling in her chest. Berserker’s pleased rumble against her hair didn’t help. 

“Well… we were going to play video games after dinner. Would you like to join us?” Marie asked doubtfully, sighing softly when Berserker snorted and shook his head. 

“ _No_.”

“Sorry, tonight’s booked. Could do tomorrow,” she smiled apologetically, reaching for a piece of tempura.

“... Master, could I talk to you before you go?” Lancer Cú asked quietly, brow furrowed as he met the Berserker’s narrowed eyes. “ _Alone_?”

But just as she said “Sure”, the Berserker hissed “ _No_ ”.

“It’s fine, I won’t be long. Why don’t you head out and I’ll catch up with you?” Eris smiled, sucking in a breath when his tail tightened around her leg. She poked it with a weary huff, pursing her lips when he growled warningly. “ _Don’t_. It’s fine. I won’t be long.”

The Berserker glowered at his Lancer counterpart, sniffing warily before finally loosening his tail and allowing her to stand up. 

She smoothed out her skirt and jacket, clasping her hands behind her as she tipped her head towards Lancer Cú. “Okay, shall we?”

He nodded slowly, eyes steady on the Berserker and gesturing towards the kitchen. 

She followed him silently, feeling a strange twist of anxiety as she felt Berserker’s eyes boring holes into her back, and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s up?” she quipped with a tight smile, leaning against a counter.

“... I don’t think you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Cú said quietly, his voice tight and strained, an earnest and worried expression on his face. “He’s not like us. He’s _nothing_ like us.”

“Think that’s pretty obvious,” she said wryly, sighing and shrugging as she reluctantly met his gaze. “I didn’t mean to-- he just-- he snuck up on me earlier. And then he-- and then… _this_. I don’t know.” 

“I’d say be careful, but if I’m being honest, I wonder if it isn’t too late. The youngster was right. He’s all but marking you as his. I worry any attempt to remove you from his clutches will end bloody,” he admitted slowly, scratching the side of his neck and shaking his head. “If this is what you want, I’d still advise strongly against it. He’s too dangerous, and you deserve better. But if this _isn’t_ what you want then… well. We’ll do what we have to to keep him away.”

Eris let out a gust of air, dropping her eyes to the floor as she scuffed it gently with her foot. “It wasn’t my intention to-- I didn’t think it was like that. I didn’t think he’d-- I mean, look at him! He’s mostly an emotionless statue. I didn’t think he was capable--”

“-- there’s an exception to every rule, isn’t there? And it’s been you, every time,” Lancer said with a wry smile of admiration. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. _Literally_. He could break you, without even thinking about it. It’s a terrible idea, Master.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” she whinged, covering her face in her hands. “It’s just… he’d never let me so close before. How could I say no to-- he _trusted_ me. I never thought I’d get through to him. I didn’t think--”

“-- you never do,” Lancer sighed, squeezing her arm gently with a warm smile. “But you’re going to have to make a decision, and _quickly_. Otherwise he’s making it for you.”

Eris nodded worriedly, rubbing her cheek and wondering what to do. Because Cú was right. The Berserker _was_ dangerous. She had no delusions about that. But still, could she deny how deeply relaxing it was, being with him earlier? Could she deny the flutters in her belly every time he caught her gaze? Could she deny that the embarrassing and inappropriate displays of affection didn’t tickle her insides, just a _bit_? The sudden and strong desire to keep her close.

But before she could open her mouth to respond, she noticed Lancer stiffen. His lips pinched together tightly as he looked past her. And then a tail slithered around her waist and pulled her backwards. 

“You said you wouldn’t be long,” Berserker growled, picking up her and cradling her bum with an arm. 

“It _wasn’t_ long, you’re just being impatient,” she argued, cheeks turning red immediately under the Lancer’s close scrutiny. “Let me go, we’re not done.”

“Yes, you _are_ ,” Berserker replied curtly, inhaling deeply before his lips twitched downwards. “Medb tried to pet me. I want to leave.”

Eris couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at his reasoning, and the queen’s stubborn persistence for any Cú’s attention. She pinched her lips tight and avoided the Berserker’s disapproving glare, and gave Lancer an apologetic smile. “Sorry Cú, looks like it’ll be up to you and Proto to fend off Medb.”

“Great. Thanks, asshole,” Lancer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest with the faintest glimmer. “You know, you could pick up some more of the slack where she’s concerned.”

“She stinks,” Berserker muttered, turning his head towards the cafeteria and sighing. “She wants something I will never give her. Foolish girl.”

“Yeah, we’re _all_ in that boat though? So, you know. Take your turn,” Lancer said pointedly, lips pushed to the side when his alter stared at him with narrowed eyes, inhaling thoughtfully. 

“... fine. But if she tries to sit in my lap again, I _will_ toss her,” Berserker warned with a soft snort, tightening his hold on his Master.

“Long as you don’t kill her, I think we’re good. At least she sort of tries to give you space. Well, more space,” Lancer smiled, glancing between his alter and Eris with barely-veiled worry. “Take care of her, okay? Don’t--”

“-- you talk too much,” Berserker huffed, turning on his heel and heading out of the kitchen, leaving the Lancer to watch them. The barest wisp of a smile on his lips. Maybe it would be alright.

  
  


Berserker Cú carried her out of the cafeteria at brisk pace, ignoring the eyes that followed them once again. He seemed to be agitated as his tail flicked and occasionally slapped against the floor when he headed down the corridor. 

“What is it?” she sighed, wrapping an arm around his back and resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“He _touched_ you.”

“He squeezed my arm, it’s not like--”

“-- I don’t like it. I can smell him on you. He _stinks_.”

Eris made a soft noise of acknowledgement, feeling fluttery and troubled at the same time. “You think everyone stinks. Or are you just jealous?”

Cú just snorted, his hold on her tightening a bit. “He _stinks_.”

“Alright, alright,” she mumbled, nuzzling his neck in the hopes that it might unwrinkle his mood. It seemed to help, as he shifted her closer to his chest and wrapped his other arm around her. “Don’t be such a grump.”

He simply muttered under his breath, holding her close and half-burying his face in her neck. “ _... mine_.”

“ _Grump_ ,” she emphasized with a teasing smile, pushing his hood back and kissing his temple despite her better judgement. She couldn’t help herself. He was just _so_... 

Cú walked casually into her room and immediately situated himself on the bed. He wrapped his tail around her bum to keep her close, then secured his arms around her back, and buried his face in her neck again. Large, rumbling purrs vibrating his chest. 

Eris moaned in protest, even though she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. “How am I supposed to resist when you act like this?” she whinged, shivering at the way his claws gently kneaded along her upper ribs. 

“You’re not,” he huffed, his words mumbled against her skin. 

They stayed like that for quite a while, and eventually Cú‘s hold on her relaxed. He began rubbing her back in long, smooth strokes and pressed his lips to the side of her head, purring contentedly with closed eyes. 

She hummed softly, staying nestled against as her eyes scanned the room. “We can’t stay like this forever, you know.”

He snorted with annoyance, nibbling down her neck until she whimpered in defeat. 

“I have stuff to do! Need to shower. Reports to finish. Research to read up on. Make some progress on my gacha game,” she argued gently, groaning when his tail tightened around her. 

“You can do all of that in my lap,” he reasoned irritably, dragging his lips up and down her neck. 

“No I can’t, you’re too… distracting,” she whined, shivering when a couple fingers found their way under her jacket, sneakily untucking the tank top underneath. “Cú...” 

He grunted in acknowledgement, rumbling with approval as he ran a finger along her back. The next thing she knew, his entire hand had pushed its way in, eagerly exploring the expanse of soft skin.

“Cú!” she squeaked, sitting up straight and looking at him with a furtive frown. “You can’t just--”

He tilted his head and snorted softly, smoothing his hand up and down her waist. “-- of course I can. You’re mine.”

“No, you _can’t_. And I’m not--” 

“-- you _are_ ,” he growled warningly, leaning in closer to her and sniffing quietly. “Your body tells the truth, even if _you_ won’t.”

Eris began to flush despite herself, not sure what to make of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talk--”

He squeezed her waist gently before running a single nail back and forth under her bustline. “No?” he leaned in and murmured huskily in her ear, sending faint, needy pulses straight between her legs. “Then why is your scent stronger when I’m near? Why is it _only_ strong when I’m near? You only smell sweet for _me_. Your arousal betrays you.”

A strangled choking noise caught in her throat, her face immediately turning beet red. “... oh my god. Oh god. Are you saying you—“

“— I wondered what it was at first. And then you came closer. Touched my shoulder. Then I knew. Subtle. Sweet. Like honey. _Tantalising_. I can’t wait to taste you,” he said with a soft, smug growl, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Oh my god. No! I mean—“ she stammered, whimpering even as she tried to squirm out of his grasp. Desperately trying to ignore the sudden throbs in her pelvis.

Cú chuckled with amusement, his hands gently kneading her torso. “Don’t lie, little one. You can’t. I can smell you.”

“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got to— I need a shower,” she said quickly, shaking her head and whining when his tail tightened further. “A cold one. A very, very cold one.”

He rumbled thoughtfully, considering her words, nails grazing her upper ribs idly. “... very well. But I prefer a hot one.”

Her jaw dropped at his casual assumption, and she squirmed more fiercely to get out of his embrace. “You are NOT joining me in the shower!!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed and mortified. _Yesterday_ , she wasn’t even sure if he liked her at all. _Yesterday_ , she thought his stalking was a bit weird but otherwise benign. And _now_ he wanted to-- and he was talking about-- 

What the hell was happening??

“Why not?” he said with a mild frown, the end of his mouth twitching subtly. 

“How can you even ask-- because we’re not-- it’s not like that!” she whinged, tapping on his shoulders with a reproachful pout. “Cú, let me go.”

“Of course it is. Why else would I be here?” he asked with a scoff, as if she was silly for thinking otherwise. “Now if you’re so determined to shower, we can--”

“NO!” she squealed, covering her face in her hands and shaking her head. “I want to shower _alone_ . By myself. _Not_ with you. _Not_ in the shower with me. _Not_ with you in the bathroom. Nothing. _Alone_. Completely alone.”

Cú grumbled sullenly, sniffing with annoyance at her determination to separate them. “... ridiculous.”

“Be reasonable! I wasn’t even sure you liked me yesterday. Now I’m glued to your lap and you want to take a shower together and you were talking about-- that’s a lot. That’s too much. _Way_ too much. We haven’t even kissed! I’m not going to just--”

He grunted, lips beginning to pinch together as he stared at her with a barely furrowed brow. Maybe compared to the rest of her Servants he was still near impossible to read. But for him? He might as well have been wearing his emotions on his sleeve. She’d never seen his face move as much as it had today. She'd never heard him speak as much as he had today.

“-- is that what this fuss is about? You want to be kissed?” he asked doubtfully, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. “I’d thought about it. I’d considered trying after we bathed.”

“Where do you come from? What is-- what did Medb do to you?” she asked breathlessly, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It’s not-- usually people kiss first before they… you know. Usually physical intimacy progresses. At a steady pace. People don’t usually just go from zero to a hundred. I mean, _I_ usually don’t.” 

His frown deepened at her pointed questions, an irritable growl vibrating in his throat. “... no shower.”

“Not with you! At least… not yet,” she conceded slowly, suddenly feeling awkward and flushed. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t figure out if she was stupid for considering going further at all, or because she hadn’t jumped on the chance to dive in head first. 

He was… so confusing. 

She was so confused.

“... fine. Shower alone. Then I want you _here_ ,” he huffed, pointing to his lap as his other hand lightly grazed her waist. “You can work, but I will touch you as I please.”

“You are _so…_ just-- fine. _Fine_. Let me go and I’ll come back when I’m done,” she groaned, leaning away from him with a grumpy face of her own. 

He watched her warily, noting the way she squirmed and the downward curl to her lips, his tail relaxing and withdrawing from her slowly. But before he let her go, he pulled in a bit closer, their faces only inches apart. “I want a kiss.”

Eris pushed her lips to the side, pausing her stubborn wriggling, and looking at him with equal suspicion. “... a kiss.”

“I’ll indulge your needless boundaries, for now. You said it starts with a kiss. I want a kiss,” he rumbled, eyes narrowed shrewdly as he slowly leaned in, grazing his lips along her jaw. “Make no mistake. You are _mine_ , no matter how long it takes you to accept that fact.”

Her stomach tied itself into one massive knot, then melted into a flurry of anxious butterflies. She let out an unconscious mewl at the intensity behind his eyes. Trying to ignore the faint, pleasurable pulses that began plaguing her. She opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a confused, breathy gasp as she shook her head. 

Who _was_ he? Was he even the same Cú? Was this _real_?

The faintest smirk curved the edge of his mouth as he nibbled his way down her neck. “I could rip your throat out right now if I wanted. _Or_ , I could put my mouth to more pleasurable uses. What do _you_ think?” he murmured against her skin, grazing his razor sharp teeth along her neck warningly. 

She stifled a mewl, unable to stop the shiver that slithered straight up her spine. “... yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her head beginning to feel fuzzy as his rumbling purr of approval sent her skin tingling.

Was this what an out of body experience felt like? 

Without warning he lifted his head, and immediately pressed his mouth to hers. He slid his tongue along her lower lip firmly, demanding deeper entry. Her eyes drifted shut as her hands naturally slid up his chest, digging her nails into his flesh as he met her whimpering moan with an approving rumble. 

Truth be told, she hadn’t expected him to be a good kisser. Those razor sharp teeth and the icy ferocity when he fought didn’t exactly support that idea. But he was. 

Cú was a _phenomenal_ kisser.

Sometimes he was rough and hungry, nipping her lips a little too hard for comfort. Then immediately his tongue soothed the pinch, and teased hers gently. Sometimes it was lazy and lingering. Simply wanting to draw out the experience as long as he could. Sometimes it was torturously slow and sensual. Grazing his lips along hers. Pausing to nibble along her jaw. Purring louder the more her body was aroused. 

He should’ve started with a kiss. 

Because damned if he hadn’t turned her into a breathless puddle of mewling goo. 

When he finally pulled away from her, he licked and nibbled the sensitive spot behind her ear. “... I _could_ continue. _In the shower…_ ” he murmured huskily, nipping roughly enough to make her gasp. 

She swallowed hard and forced down a needy moan, her heart racing as his hands continued to knead her upper rib cage. 

… oh no. 

She wasn’t. She wouldn’t. She’d never-- 

… she was, wasn’t she? This was happening. This was going to happen. Oh no…

And before the last shred of sanity could claw its way to her, she found herself replying breathlessly, “... _yes_.”

Cú pulled back to stare into her eyes with the first proper smile she’d ever seen painting his lips. The smallest but hungriest smirk that made her insides wriggle and writhe in the most delicious way. “... that’s more like it. Should’ve started with a kiss.”

She made a quiet, embarrassed noise, cheeks flushing at the unbridled lust in his eyes, squeaking when he suddenly got to his feet. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll finish with one too,” he said blithely, boldly giving her bum a gentle squeeze as they disappeared into the bathroom. “Just… _somewhere else_.”

She knew exactly where. And despite finding herself caught in his whirlwind, despite how hard her heart was drumming, how painfully tight her toes were curling.

… she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop him. It was _so_ good. He’d been… _so_ good. And if his kisses were, what else did he have hiding up his sleeve? She _had_ to know.

What was it like to be claimed by the Mad King?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/22/21) You know I'm not gonna leave you hanging. You KNOW there's gonna be a Part 3 (and probably Part 4) to this lol
> 
> Think Ozy Pt. 2 will be the next one up. We'll see. The muse is a fickle thing LOL
> 
> Thank you so much for the generous feedback and kudos and all those things. Really appreciate knowing that you're all enjoying this!


	12. Stars Pt. 2 (Ozymandias)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of involuntary shopping, she's looking forward to a quiet dinner with her favourite Pharaoh. 
> 
> But it seems someone let the cat out of the bag, because there's a certain knowing twinkle in Ozy's eyes that wasn't there before. 
> 
> ... who spilled the beans??

* * *

“MONGREL!” 

Eris stopped in the hallway, shuddering as the sound boots approached from behind her. “Yes, my King?” she answered as calmly as possible, slowly turning on her heel and painting a patient smile on her face.

“Come.” The King of Heroes gestured sharply to her and turned back around, heading in the direction of the Control Room.

She squeezed the back of her neck and sighed, but followed obediently. “... and where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

“What?” she asked quizzically, picking up her pace to walk beside him. 

“Did I stutter?” he scoffed, chin tilted subtly as a small smirk teased his lips. “Da Vinci informed me a new anomaly has appeared. We’ll have the next few days off. There is a hotel casino, beach and nightclubs. You’ll need to be properly outfitted.”

“What?” she laughed, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him with a furrowed brow. “I already have clothes I can wear.”

Gilgamesh snorted and gave her a disapproving side eye. “They’re upper class establishments. You do  _ not  _ have anything to wear.”

“And how exactly am I going to pay for said wardrobe?” she asked worriedly, squeezing the back of her neck. “I already know the King’s taste for luxury. There is no way I can aff--”

He clucked his tongue and raised a hand swiftly. “-- not your concern. No Master of mine will dress like a pauper on vacation. Not with so many eyes on her.”

“Oh? I’m your Master now, am I?” she teased, scrunching her nose and failing to look as pleased as she felt. 

The King huffed and pursed his lips, though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You’ve done as well as you could, given what little you had to work with,” he said stiffly, grumbling when she stifled an amused giggle. “It seems the standards in Chaldea are much lower. You’ve been accumulating… admirers. You must continue to be worthy of such admiration.”

“Mhm,” she nodded, biting her lip and fighting a wide grin. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

“I notice  _ everything _ ,” he said snippily, entering the Control Room and smirking when he saw Nero and Da Vinci waiting for them. “It’s just rarely worth acknowledging.”

“What’s this?” she asked with a wavering frown, looking at the three of them suspiciously. 

“Phase Two!” Da Vinci said brightly, holding out a tablet for Eris. “You’ve worked hard the last several weeks, now it’s  _ my  _ turn to work my magic. I’ve drawn several templates for outfits and dresses that will enhance your features best. Nero and Gilgamesh will accompany you and oversee the purchase of your new wardrobe.”

“You  _ really  _ want to go shopping?” Eris looked at Gilgamesh doubtfully, scratching the back of her neck. “Can’t imagine you’d enjoy it.”

“I  _ won’t _ , but I won’t tolerate my Master looking like a clown,  _ so… _ ” he said resentfully, cheeks flushing mildly at Da Vinci’s knowing smile. “What? Who would know better how to turn a King’s head than the King of Heroes?”

“The Emperor of Rome, maybe?” Nero said blithely, lips twitching as she gave her Master a satisfied once-over. “You never appreciated her natural beauty, I don’t see why you--”

“-- to ensure your hands don’t wander needlessly. As though I’m unaware of your lascivious glances,” Gilgamesh snorted, mouth pinched into a thin line at the Emperor’s nonchalant shrug.

“I have eyes. You expect me not to look?” Nero said dismissively, stepping forward to take Eris’ hand and lead her to her coffin. “ _ Now _ . Da Vinci has held off announcing the new anomaly until tonight, so we can conduct our business away from prying eyes. A transformation is always appreciated most when it’s a surprise.”

“I think you’re all making a way bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. Ignoring the King’s opinion, it’s not like I’m some ugly duckling turned swan. I didn’t change  _ that  _ much. Skin’s a bit clearer. Bags under my eyes are gone. I’m… calmer, I guess. Really don’t need to fuss about clothes, do we? Not like we can even bring it back here with us,” she protested weakly, groaning when all three Spirits frowned at her disapprovingly. 

“Of course we can! I’ve already made arrangements. Besides,  _ you _ laid down the gauntlet,” Da Vinci said with an unshakeable cheeriness, though Eris didn’t miss the glint of stubborn determination. “I said I would make a masterpiece of you. And I  _ will _ .”

The young Master nodded glumly, climbing into the coffin and trying to get comfortable. “Alright, alright. Let’s just not take too long, okay? I  _ hate  _ shopping…” 

“It will take as long as  _ I  _ deem necessary. And  _ you  _ will keep silent and not complain,” Gilgamesh huffed, closing the coffin on her with a smug smirk. Eris sighed and closed her eyes, hands slowly clenching into fists. 

This was going to be a long day.

  
  


By the time they returned from rayshifting it was nearly time for supper, and Eris was desperate to get away from the two rulers. Maybe if she’d gone with literally anyone else she might’ve enjoyed herself, and a secret shopping trip would’ve actually felt like a treat. 

Instead she spent most of the day in and out of changing rooms. She stood like a mannequin while Nero and Gilgamesh hovered around her and bickered over every minute detail. This colour or that. This neckline or that. This was too long. This was too short. This material was better than that material. This pair of earrings was better than that. 

It slowly sucked any enjoyment she could’ve had. And she was certain that once the anomaly was announced later that night, she’d be under their watchful eye for the duration of their trip. 

_ Because God forbid she try to dress herself. _

As she exited the coffin, Nero and Gilgamesh were already walking out of the Control Room, heads held high and chests puffed up. 

“I think that went rather well,” Nero hummed contentedly, clasping her hands behind her back. “Da Vinci will be pleased with our choices.”

“Obviously,” Gilgamesh scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “My Master will  _ finally  _ look befitting of the King of Heroes.”

Eris rolled her eyes and sighed, grateful that they turned right, while she turned left for Ozy’s quarters. She promised that they could have dinner together, and she was all too eager to have some quiet time away from prying eyes and flirtatious advances. 

Not that she didn’t still enjoy the extra attention she was receiving from some of her Servants, but she was determined to spend the rest of her evening recharging. There’d be time enough for socializing tomorrow. 

She knocked on the Sun-King’s door, stepping inside when it slid open, and felt her stress and agitation slowly melt away as she looked around. Recently Ozy had transformed the door into a gate to his temple. She supposed it was easier for him to go back and forth. Or maybe it was so Chaldea residents could visit. She’d never actually asked. 

Because the truth was, the Pharaoh’s temple was nothing short of a piece of paradise and ancient history rolled up in one. It hit every nerdy button she had. The architecture. The hieroglyphics. The perfect re-creation of a time long gone. The faint scent of sweet incense that lingered in the air. The lush trees, flowers and foliage that burst from the central garden. Pools hid deep within. 

It was no wonder the Pharaoh rarely entered Chaldea proper. It felt cold and sterile by comparison. The opposite of everything the Sun-King embodied.

He was lounging on a chaise, reading a book when she walked in, which he quickly tossed aside with a grin. “Ah, you’re early! How fortunate, the sky will be at her most beautiful while we eat.”

“Sounds lovely,” she shrugged, yelping when the Pharaoh got to his feet and swept her up in his arms. His eyes brimmed with warmth, and a glint of something else she didn’t quite recognize. 

“You look flushed, as though you got too much sun,” he murmured curiously, observing her closely as he left the throne room and made his way towards the gardens.

“Eh, not really. Spent most of the day indoors,” she said sheepishly, not wanting to admit that it was the casual way he held her close. 

“Are you feeling ill? Perhaps we should have the doctor look at you,” he muttered thoughtfully to himself, heading up some stairs and down another long hallway covered with paintings. 

“I’m fine, no need to fuss,” Eris said quickly, trying to offer an assuring smile as he turned into his master suite. 

“If you’re certain,” he said with a doubtful side glance, finally letting her onto her feet as he motioned to a central table proudly. “I hope a full day of battles has roused your appetite. I have quite the feast prepared.”

Her eyes widened at the lavish arrangement, noting that he’d kept the chairs close to each other, rather than on opposite ends. There were platters of fresh fruit, roasted meat and vegetables, spiced grains, a vase with flowers, golden plates and cutlery. Oil lamps were lit, creating dancing shadows on the walls. 

It occurred to her that she’d never been in his private room before. They’d only ever spent time together in the throne room or the gardens. Why the change? She opened her mouth to say something, but found herself at a loss for words, only gasping quizzically and shaking her head. To be honest, it almost looked like a romantic candlelit dinner. 

Which… it couldn’t be, right?

“What’s wrong? Does it not please you?” Ozy asked, his smile wavering as indignance crept into his voice.

“What? No of course it does!” she laughed softly, rubbing her flushing cheek as she allowed him to guide her to her chair. “I’m just surprised is all. You didn’t need to go to so much effort for me.”

“But it pleased me to do so. Dinner with the Pharaoh should pale in comparison to meals in that awful cafeteria,” the Sun-King huffed, gracefully taking a seat beside her as he began to serve her food.

“I suppose so,” she nodded, folding her hands in her lap awkwardly as he waited on her. Her stomach was starting to churn, but she wasn’t quite sure why. There was something behind Ozymandias’ smile that unsettled her somehow.

The Pharaoh sniffed haughtily, carefully selecting some fresh figs to add to her plate before placing it in front of her. “Besides, at least this way I can keep you away from your throngs of admirers,” he muttered sullenly, pausing to watch her take her first bite with an expectant smile.

“There aren’t throngs,” she said tiredly, clearing her throat under the Pharaoh’s intent gaze, obediently taking a bite of the herbed roast, and making an approving noise. “Perfect.”

Ozy thrummed contentedly, returning his attention to his own plate. “Good. And there  _ are  _ throngs. It’s become impossible to get you alone lately.”

“Pharaoh, you know I’ll always make time for you,” she reasoned with a small smile, her stomach making a rude flip-flop when he paused to look at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. “... what?”

“It occurred to me that you’ve shown none of them your favour,” he said casually, tilting his head with narrowed eyes as he took a quiet bite. 

“Oh?” she replied innocently, clearing her throat as she took a sip of water, guiltily avoiding his gaze. “I mean, I guess not.”

“It made me curious.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I recalled a conversation we had some weeks ago. About an unknown person that you held romantic feelings for. He’s not numbered among your suitors?” There was a sharpened point to his words that made her shift in her seat and shrug. 

“... no,” she said slowly, continuing to avoid eye contact as she dropped her attention to cutting another piece of roast. 

A bare smile began to tug on the Pharaoh’s mouth as he did the same. “ _ Curious _ . And am I correct in deducing that your feelings remain tender for this… unknown man?”

There was a vein of smugness in his voice that sent a wave of nausea through her and she immediately started choking on her food, her face turning beet red. “Pharaoh, I… I’d rather not discuss it.”

“No? Why not?” he asked not-so-innocently, an impish twinkle in his eye as he took a bite.

“I just… it’s not-- it doesn’t matter.” She struggled to find the words, any words to get her out of this conversation, but she was too distracted fighting the impulse to throw up or run screaming. 

He didn’t-- he hadn’t figured it out, had he? No one had told him, had they? 

_ Had they?? _

“Of course it matters. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to me.” There was an edge of gravel in his voice that she’d never heard before. And it sent faint pulses straight to her pelvis, forcing a soft, surprised gasp out of her. 

“I… uh… thank you, Pharaoh. That’s uh… very… kind.” Her words fell from her lips in a shaky staccato, and she couldn’t stop her foot from tapping manically against the sandstone beneath them. 

Why did this suddenly feel like a set-up? Why did she feel like someone was putting her on? Why did she suddenly have the strong urge to run screaming from the temple? 

He hummed quietly, eyes glimmering brightly at how flustered she was becoming, a faint smirk hanging stubbornly on his lips as he returned to his food. “It  _ also  _ occurred to me…” 

“Oh?”

“... that perhaps the problem was that you never made your feelings known.”

She grunted uncomfortably, biting into a fresh fig and attempting to not look as devastated as she felt.

Who told on her?? Someone must’ve. He was speaking  _ way  _ too smugly and cryptically to not know it’d been him all along.  _ Bloody hell.  _

Maybe she could wiggle her way out of this. Maybe she could throw him off the scent. Maybe the truth was, now that it came down to it, she was too mortified to consider that he was anything but amused and flattered. And the last thing she could handle right now was a beautiful, non-romantic, sunset  _ rejection dinner _ .

“... maybe not,” she finally admitted reluctantly, taking another gulp of water as she tried to stop the burning in her cheeks. 

“You were so certain of rejection?” 

“Pharaoh…” she whined, squirming in her chair despite herself. “ _ Please _ .”

But Ozy was having none of it. He was on her scent and he was  _ not  _ going to let this go. He propped his head up with an elbow and hummed contentedly. “And here I’d been so certain that one of those bumbling fools had captured your eye. Silly. How could they when--” 

Before she knew it, she’d bolted up from her chair, hands white-knuckling the table. “-- I have to go.” Her words came out in a mumbled blur, her eyes darting anywhere but the Pharaoh’s face. “I have… reports to do. A mountain of reports.”

“What? No you don’t,” he frowned, swiftly grasping her hand and pulling her into his lap with a huff. “I already checked with Da Vinci. You’re caught up on your work. You are free to spend the entire evening with me.”

Eris shook her head childishly, fidgeting in his lap as another muffled whine escaped her lips.

“What about all the effort I put in? You’ve barely touched your food. Would you deny your Pharaoh the pleasure of taking care of you?” he murmured, a little too huskily, pushing her bangs away from her face. 

A blustery gasp was all she managed to respond with, before very slowly and very reluctantly shaking her head. 

“Good girl,” he smiled, patting her hip and pulling her closer with a satisfied sigh. “Well. Now you’re here I think you should remain next to me.”

“I think I should sit in my own chair,” she mumbled, jerking her head away from him when he leaned in closer. 

“You could. And then we could continue the conversation of your mystery man,” Ozy countered with a smirk, chuckling with amusement when she slumped against him in defeat. “Very well, we’ll find a different topic to discuss.”

But Eris only half heard him. She was trapped in the hamster wheel of her mind, trying to figure out how he found out. Who’d betrayed her? And what was all this about? This was all just some condescending bullshit display, wasn’t it? Finding out just stroked his already large ego. But he didn’t feel the same way. Obviously. How could he? She’d spent months being treated like the favorite baby sister. 

Surely this was just a strange and twisted extension of it. Awww look at the adorable little Master. Having a crush on the sun-god-king. Of course she would. Isn’t it so cute? 

The thought was enough to turn her green with nausea.

It took Ozy a while to realize that something was off, contentedly eating dinner with his Master nestled in his lap. He tried offering her a bite here and there, but she simply shook her head. After a couple minutes he put his fork down and looked at her with a mild frown. “What’s the matter?”

“... who told you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her eyes began to glisten despite her best efforts. 

“Told me what?” he quipped teasingly, his smile faltering when tears hovered precariously on her eyelashes. He made a soothing, throaty noise and brushed them away delicately with a thumb. “What’s this now? Why tears?”

She didn’t trust herself to respond and she bit her lower lip hard to prevent it from trembling. There was no explaining the soul crushing mortification. It didn’t matter that everyone else knew, as long as he didn’t. 

As long as he didn’t, the crippling fear of rejection couldn’t reach her. But here in his arms, she was teetering on the edge. Forced to face the answer to his question: why  _ hadn’t _ she said anything? Why  _ hadn’t _ she made her feelings known?

Because he was the King of Kings. The embodiment of the sun’s perfect beauty and perfect warmth. He’d already met the love of his life. The love of ages. He’d had countless wives. 

And who was she? No one. Literally no one. She shouldn’t even be here. She was a fourth-rate mage who happened to survive out of sheer luck. Any other mage would’ve been the better choice to save humanity. All the self-care and pretty dresses in the world didn’t change that fact. 

She didn’t belong here. 

She would  _ never  _ belong here. 

Ozymandias sighed as tears spilled down her cheeks, patiently wiping them away as his other arm pulled her closer. “Speak, beloved. Your Pharaoh yearns to hear your voice,” he murmured coaxingly, kissing her eyes lightly. And when she shook her head and hid her face in his neck, he melted against her. “Why did you never say anything? Give any hint to your true feelings?”

Eris shook her head again, sniffling as she slid her arms around his waist, clinging to him like a buoy in a storm. 

“Stubborn little thing,” he chided with a small smile, rubbing her back as he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “As though I’d do anything but pull you into my arms and shower you with kisses.”

She mumbled inaudibly against his skin, her voice gritty with annoyance, eliciting a warm, chesty laugh from the Pharaoh. 

“Why should you long to be in anyone else’s arms? There is no embrace stronger or safer than the sun’s,” he scoffed, impulsively dropping kisses wherever he could reach. “And so, you shall have no other. Only your Pharaoh will keep you warm.”

She began to squirm in his lap, getting aggravated that the more she tried to avoid it, the more affection he gave. And the louder her annoyed noises, the louder he laughed. Finally she huffed and pulled away, frowning at him warily. “ _ Stop _ . What’re you doing?” 

“Ah, she speaks,” he sighed contentedly, patting her lower back and looking at her with bright, sparkling eyes. 

God. He was insufferably perfect sometimes. She couldn’t even wallow in her own negative thoughts without him sweeping the clouds away with a simple smile. He couldn’t be real. She couldn’t really be here. He couldn’t really be looking at her with the tender kind of warmth he was. 

Eris muttered under her breath, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to shift her position on his lap. “... I’m getting hungry again. Should finish dinner.”

“Excellent idea,” he agreed, not stopping her as she faced the table and began to eat from his plate. He kept his arms around her waist and propped his chin on her shoulder, kissing her neck at random intervals.

“Pharaoh…” she sighed, fighting off a smile when he pressed his nose to her hair and inhaled quietly.

“Hmm. It  _ is _ like an ocean breeze, isn’t it?” he smiled to himself, nudging her shoulder with his nose. “What is it, beloved?”

Her toes curled tightly in her shoes at the pet name, and her stomach fluttered so much she was beginning to feel nauseous again. “I… I don’t know. Never mind. Are you hungry?”

“I’m content to hold you,” he shrugged nonchalantly, giving her a gentle squeeze. “And you? Is your heart still raw and tender?” 

There was something in the way he said it. The softness in his voice. The patience. The thoughtless understanding. The stubbornness. Determined to soothe the ache she felt, whatever it was. Determined to keep her close until it was gone. 

As much as his arrogant declarations about himself both amused and annoyed her, he wasn’t completely wrong. He  _ was _ amazing. How could anyone else have  _ ever  _ compared?

She let out a shaky exhale and shrugged stupidly, reaching for a small bunch of grapes. “I don’t know. I guess. A bit.”

“Well, once you’ve had your fill, why don’t we relax in the garden a while? Then I think perhaps we should turn in early. I expect it’s been a long and trying day, and you could use some extra rest before we leave for the island,” he smiled, brushing his thumb against her cheek and kissing the side of her head. 

She made an assenting noise as she popped a grape in her mouth, though her mouth immediately curved downwards as her brain caught on his words. “... wait, what?”

“What?” he asked cluelessly, reaching for the grapes as well. 

“What do you mean ‘we’ should turn in? And what do you know about the island? Da Vinci wasn’t going to announce it until--” 

“Hm? I told you I spoke with Da Vinci earlier. He told me,” Ozy shrugged, making pleased noises as he put two grapes in his mouth. 

“And what did you mean ‘we’?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? My suggestion was incredibly simple,” he replied with a confused frown, tilting his head to observe her.

“When you say ‘we’ should turn in, do you mean I should go to my room and sleep early? Alone?” she pressed carefully, brow furrowed doubtfully. And the lines grew deeper at his amused scoff.

“What? No! Why would you sleep in your room alone? It’s unbearably cold and spartan. No, of course you’ll stay here. Wouldn’t you much rather fall asleep in my arms?” he asked, cocking his head to the other side and smiling warmly. 

Eris shook her head in disbelief and made a helpless gesture. What world was she in right now? Was this really happening? “... I don’t know. Yes?” 

“You don’t know?” Ozy asked with a frown that threatened to deepen into a pout. “You don’t want to stay with your Pharaoh?”

“I’m… overwhelmed,” she admitted with a sheepish laugh, making an uncomfortable noise when he nuzzled her neck. “This is a… it’s a lot to process.” 

The Sun-King hummed thoughtfully, slowly biting into a fig as he observed her closely. “... yes. Yes, of course. Fortunate for you, the King of Kings is neither hasty nor impatient. The journey is just as enjoyable as the destination,” he smiled, offering her a bite before kissing her temple. 

She took one and shook her head, staring at him wondrously. “You’re… this… is this a joke?”

“What? That would be a cruel and heartless act, wouldn’t it?” Ozy frowned deeply, eating the rest of the fig before inspecting the empty plate in front of them. “You’re full?” 

She nodded silently, exhaling shakily before turning to face him. He smiled at her warmly, running the back of his hand along her jaw and gasping when she straddled his lap and hid her face in his neck. He made a contented, throaty noise as he wrapped his arms around her protectively, melting at the way she held onto him in return. 

“Ah, my sweet Master. It pains me to think your heart withered for so long without the sun’s warmth. I shall never leave you wanting again,” he murmured against her hair, feeling his own heart pierced by her voiceless response. Too overwhelmed by her emotions, by  _ his _ , to do anything other than nuzzle his neck meekly. 

They sat like that for quite a while, waist-deep in comfortable silence as he slowly rubbed her back in long, gentle strokes. Eventually he pressed his lips to her neck and made a soft noise. “... I suppose we can visit the garden in the morning.” 

She nodded in agreement, her body finally beginning to relax against him properly. 

“Very well. We’ll remain here until you’re ready to sleep,” he groaned happily, getting more comfortable as he rested his feet on the edge of the table. He slumped back in his chair and patted her bum lightly before wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes. “No one enjoys a good cuddle as much as the Pharaoh.”

Eris laughed in surprise at his casual comment, turning her head slightly, eyes finally starting to glimmer. “I don’t know. I think  _ I _ might.” 

“Ha! Ridiculous.”

“Wanna bet?” 

Ozy made a throaty, amused noise as he squeezed her hip. “You will  _ not  _ win, beloved.” 

“... I don’t know. Think I already did,” she said slyly, tightening her arms around him as she nuzzled him again.

He let out a happy, wistful sigh at that, craning his neck to kiss her hair. “I think it would be fair to say we  _ both  _ did…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/28/21) Welp! This one took longer than expected. Mostly because four stories popped into my head all at once, demanding to be written simultaneously XD But looks like this will at least be getting a part 3.
> 
> So coming up will be Emiya, Proto Cu, Archer Gil on top of the rest (in no particular order). Too many stories, too few hands to type with! lol


	13. Comfortable Silences (EMIYA)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She always looked forward binge-watching anime with Emiya. When it was just them, late at night in the Rec Room, enjoying each other's company. 
> 
> And the more time they spent together, the more it occurred to her that maybe she was catching feelings.
> 
> ... but how did _he_ feel about _her_?

* * *

Eris learned about all different types of silence in her months at Chaldea among her many Servants. Stony. Sullen. Pensive. Observant. Menacing.

Emiya’s was comfortable. Calming. He never demanded or requested anything of her. Never said anything needlessly. He was content with or without her company. She appreciated that, especially given how some of her Servants required extra TLC. But she never neglected the Archer. She found ways to carve time out just for them to hang out and bond. 

Their favourite thing, or at least _her_ favourite thing, was their late night anime binge sessions. It was impossible to tell what he liked most. He offered so little about himself, and she’d gotten used to not pressing about it. But there was always a niggling itch of curiosity about him. She’d read his files. She knew that in another life, he’d been like her. A lesser mage who got himself caught up in a Grail War. Who had a fervent need to be a Hero. 

And through sheer force of will, he succeeded. Although he seemed to have regretted that course. Not that it mattered, or at least that’s what he said. He became a Counter Guardian. Caught in an endless loop of cleaning up after humanity’s messes. 

She wondered if that was why he watched over her so closely. Maybe he remembered what it was like. Maybe he didn’t want her to make the same mistake. She was confident she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to be someone else’s tool. Someone else’s weapon. Besides, what could she possibly offer as a Servant?

She had no real magical skills of her own. She didn’t have exceptional physical or mental prowess. She was somewhat of a strategist, but she was still too inexperienced. She leaned on her Servants too heavily for their advice and expertise. 

No, she’d make a terrible Servant. 

  
  


Her thoughts continued to wander as she stretched out on the couch next to Emiya late one evening, during their usual anime-watching time. It was the perfect way to wind down from a long day. Just them in the dark Rec Room, sharing a snack and an idle comment here or there about the story. Mostly just enjoying a comfortable silence.

She found her eyes drifting from the TV screen to Emiya’s face, along his features methodically as that curiosity began to itch again. His story fascinated her. A normal mage, turned Heroic Spirit. One who’d only been marginally stronger than she was now. What kind of stubborn determination must it have taken to achieve what he did? Willingly sacrificing his own autonomy, to ensure that he had the chance to save as many lives as he could. 

She wondered if she had that same strength of will. If she too could do the impossible. She always put on a smile, carried herself with a calm demeanour wherever she went. But saving humanity from utter annihilation… It was a Herculean task that often left her paralyzed with fear and self-doubt. 

Still, despite the fact that he’d become a near perfect killing machine, she saw glimpses of the young man he once was, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge it. He’d all but taken over the kitchen. It was a surprising but delightful domesticity that she never expected. He could cook most anything with little effort, and it was always the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. 

He wasn’t nearly as cold as he tried to portray, she knew that. His face was often stoic and expressionless, but there was a warmth that shone through his actions. He was sharp, observant and incredibly considerate. He paid attention to the smallest details. He did so many small things to make her life easier and more comfortable. 

Whether it was a fresh cup of tea when she was tired, her favourite meal when she seemed down, or informing her of a new anime he’d discovered so they could watch it together. The unprompted hand and foot massages that he sometimes offered when she was particularly stressed or sore. 

She never asked him to. She never needed to. He just knew. He always knew.

He cared. He’d probably never say it. That wasn’t really his style. Or maybe he thought she didn’t notice. But she did. And she couldn’t help but wonder after a while, if there was more to his consideration. Whether it was him being a good Servant, or a good friend… or _something else_? 

It was impossible to tell, and she was far too shy to ask outright. 

Emiya sensed her eyes on him, and eventually turned his head toward her with a faintly furrowed brow. “... Master?”

“Hm?” she asked innocently, pulling up the blanket around her with a weak smile.

“Something on your mind?” 

She couldn’t tell if it was dry amusement or curiosity or maybe even annoyance in his tone. But she shook her head with a soft noise, curling onto her side and trying to focus on the TV.

… and then she felt _his_ eyes on _her_. 

She tried to wave it away, ignored the heat rising to her cheeks, and bored holes into the screen.

But he kept looking. 

And she found herself forced to meet his steady, silent gaze. “... Emiya?”

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked quietly, a trace of huskiness in his voice, though his face was blank and statuesque.

“Mhm,” she smiled, clearing her throat awkwardly as she fussed with her pillow and returned to the show. She wondered if the screen was bright enough to show the deep pink hue to her cheeks. She hoped not.

He continued to watch her for a few more beats, before sighing softly and squeezing her ankles as they rested on his lap. He didn’t press any further, and eventually a comfortable silence fell between them again. 

Over the next few weeks, Eris found herself paying closer and closer attention to Emiya. He _was_ handsome, wasn’t he? Not in a classic sense. If she had to describe him, she’d say his looks were striking. There was a certain hardness about him. His jawline was just a bit too sharp. His cheekbones a bit too chiseled. His features a bit too defined. There was no softness about him, neither in his looks or speech. 

But there was _something_ about him. A deep, quiet, unshakeable power. She could feel it. 

He carried himself like someone who’d seen too much. Knew too much. It hadn’t left him jaded, not exactly. It had left him... hollow. As if he saw the world in shades of grey. Drained of all its colour. As if he’d nearly lost all hope.

_Nearly_. 

The more she thought about him, the more her stomach fluttered. The more a faint flush would tinge her cheeks in his presence. The more difficult it became to meet his gaze when he caught her looking. The more she couldn’t help but wish that maybe, just maybe his silent, attentive support _was_ something more.

Thankfully he never asked about the subtle shift in her demeanour. Never pointed it out. Didn’t shun her or alter his behavior towards her in any way. And while she was grateful, it only added to the puzzle that was him. 

Obviously he noticed. But did he _feel_ anything about it? Or was he completely indifferent? Because she couldn’t help but consider that if he held any romantic interest towards her, he would’ve done something by now.

… or would he?

Emiya didn’t seem the type to lavish with praise. To fawn over her. To charge in head first and claim her for himself. To loudly declare his intentions in front of all and sundry. To compete with others for her affection or attention. 

No, that wasn’t him. 

So how _would_ a man like him express his interest or affection? 

Through his actions, probably. 

Quietly. Unobtrusively. Without any fanfare. No starry-eyed dreams to coax her toward. No, it’d be through the little things. Small gestures to show he cared every day. Showing that he paid attention. A simple daily reminder that he was there. He cared. And he’d do it all again tomorrow. 

… holy crap. 

Did he… ? _Could_ he?

Eris gasped loudly at the possibility, covering her mouth and flushing brightly when everyone paused their dinner conversation to look at her. 

“Master? Are you quite alright?” Merlin asked with a concerned frown. 

Marie’s eyes narrowed as she noted a certain glimmer in her Master’s eyes. A certain rosiness that appeared. The faintest tremor in her hands. “Hmmmm… I think we should talk later,” she said with a cryptic smile, beginning to hum as she cut herself another piece of tonkatsu. 

“Haha, sorry. Yes, I’m fine. Just… something just occurred to me,” she smiled sheepishly, clearing her throat and scooping some sauce with her rice. 

“And what was that?” Siegfried asked curiously, grunting as Marie silently transferred her potato salad to his plate. 

“Oh, nothing. Nothing,” she said dismissively, her heart skipping a beat when she felt Emiya’s eyes lingering.

And it sent her thoughts racing even faster. 

… okay. Say there _was_ a chance that he felt something more. How was she supposed to respond? How could she let him know that maybe she was starting to feel the same way? 

If she did, would he give her a clearer sign?

  
  


She decided to start small. 

Later that night, Eris entered the darkened Rec Room with two large, steaming mugs of tea and a small smile on her face. Usually she drank herbal tea, but tonight she decided to make Japanese tea. His favourite. And how did she know? Because _she’d_ begun paying more attention to _him_. And she never usually brought him anything, so hopefully… he might start getting a hint, small as it was. 

He was already sitting cross-legged in the middle of the couch, in his casual wear. He didn’t turn to her until she came closer, eyes narrowing slightly when he noted the second mug in her hands. She held it out for him with a shy smile, and he tilted his head, observing her for a couple seconds before nodding and taking it. 

She immediately took her place to his left, stretching her legs out so her feet dangled in his lap. He leaned back against the cushions and brought the mug to his nose, inhaling and making an interested noise. 

“Guricha?” he asked, sounding surprised before taking a sip and humming with approval. 

“Mhm. You like?” she asked casually, despite the butterfly doing zoomies in her belly. 

“I do,” he murmured, taking another sip and looking at her with an unreadable expression. “... thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, putting her tea down to throw a blanket over both of them, and settled in for another late night together. 

She wasn’t sure when his hand had slid under the covers and clasped her ankle. But after a while he started brushing it idly with his thumb, his fingers tracing around the bone on the other side. Her heart fluttered and she felt her cheeks become impossibly warm, letting out a soft, shaky sigh despite herself. Which he seemed to take as a sign of encouragement, because he didn’t stop. 

Not until they parted for the night.

… huh. 

  
  


A few days later, she was busy in the kitchen. Once dinner was done, the cafeteria slowly became a ghost town. And by the time it hit mid-evening, it was the perfect time to do a little cooking of her own. Because despite popular opinion, Emiya wasn’t the only one who had a knack for cooking.

Eris had spent countless hours with her mother in the kitchen, learning how to cook anything and everything under the sun. She didn’t do much in the way of desserts, but if it was savoury, no problem. No one knew about her hidden talent, and why would they? Emiya was the master of Chaldea’s kitchen.

She could barely contain the impish grin when she entered the Rec Room with a plate of perfectly shaped onigiri. Nothing too fancy or difficult, but that wasn’t the point. She only hoped he understood the meaning behind the gesture. The Archer sat up straighter, eyes widening slightly when she presented it to him. 

“Thought this way you wouldn’t have to get up later,” she said, biting her lower lip gently. 

He inhaled slowly and took the plate, tipping it slightly this way and that to inspect them more closely. “... you made this yourself?” he finally asked, turning to her with the faintest smile as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

“Mhm. Okay. Will be back with tea!” she quipped, turning on her heel and heading back out.

A short while after, she returned with two steaming mugs, eyes twinkling when she saw Emiya had already dug into them. 

“What do you think?” she asked, placing his mug on the side table near him, and took her usual seat on the other side. 

“They’re… perfect,” he replied, taking another large bite before reaching for his tea. She hummed happily and pulled the blanket over herself, nudging his leg. He raised the plate, freeing her to cover his lap as well, then turned to her with a mild frown. “You’re not going to have any?

“In a bit,” she smiled, leaning against the back of the couch and watching him contentedly.

Emiya paused mid-bite and turned to her, a smile gently tugging the right corner of his mouth. “Careful, Master. You’ll spoil me if you keep this up.”

Eris scrunched her nose and shrugged, taking a careful sip. “You deserve it.”

She could’ve sworn she saw a subtle flush to his cheeks, but he didn’t reply. Instead he turned on the show and picked up another onigiri.

But the silence that fell between them wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t _uncomfortable_ , but it was… thicker than usual. Something was beginning to stir, and it had her stomach fluttering to a distracting degree.

Somewhere between the second and third episode, his hand found its way underneath the blanket and on her ankle again. Tracing around the bone. Caressing her skin idly, squeezing gently here and there. She shivered at his touch, in the best way possible.

It seemed he’d gotten the hint. 

  
  


It was a while before their next night together, but Emiya had already warned her not to prepare anything. 

“ _My_ turn,” he said with a bare smile, nodding his head and continuing down the hall. 

His turn? 

It would be several hours before she found out what he’d planned, and the anticipation drove her batty. Not least because of how much she’d been enjoying his company. How much she looked forward to it. 

_And_ his touch. 

His fingers were a bit rough. Calloused. But his caresses were always soft. Slow. Lingering. Enjoying the feel of her, that simple closeness between them, for as long as she’d let him. 

When she arrived at the Rec Room late that night, Emiya was waiting for her as usual. As she sat down, she noticed the small smile tugging the corner of his mouth. But just when she reached for the blanket, he stood up.

“Be right back.” 

She bit her lip and watched him exit, waiting for the doors to close. The moment they did she covered her face with her hands and let out a muffled squeal. How could he get her so fluttery by doing so little?

Somehow he’d managed to pull her attention like salt-water taffy. Slowly and subtly.

He returned a few minutes later with a tray in hand. On it were two steaming mugs and a luscious white cake. With plump strawberries nestled prettily on top.

Her stomach clenched tightly and she made a soft noise, her cheeks immediately flushing. “Strawberry shortcake. My favourite…”

“I know.” A smile teased his lips as he laid the tray on the ottoman in front of them, taking his usual seat and cutting them a slice.

“Emiya, I…” her words trailed off when he handed her a plate, a dim twinkle in his eye. “... thank you.”

“Your turn to be spoiled,” he said casually, resting his feet by the tray and leaning back as he dug into his slice.

She nodded with a shy smile, shifting next to him as she took a bite. It was _perfect_. A blend of light and creamy with the hint of tart sweetness from the berries. 

He turned on the TV as they continued to eat, and she fought against the impulse to look at him. When she’d finished, he took her plate and passed her mug of tea. After she’d put it down and was about to stretch out, he turned to her.

“... you could rest your head in my lap. If you liked.”

Eris’ cheeks flushed brightly, and she was grateful the darkness obscured it a bit. She nodded silently in response and switched positions, laying her head in his lap as she curled up on her side.

She had a difficult time paying attention to the show. Her heart drummed too loudly in her ears. This was new. She’d never— they’d never been close like this before. It was… a little titillating, if she was honest. She was shocked that he’d even offered. 

Somewhere between the second and third episode, he started stroking her hair. Lightly threading his fingers through it. Occasionally scratching her scalp. Sometimes just rubbing a lock between his fingers. Or wrapping a curl around it. Every touch elicited a shiver. A flutter. A faint pulse of excited pleasure. A weak but persistent ache. 

How did he manage it? 

Making her feel so much by doing so little.

Eventually his fingers traveled a little further. Scratched the base of her scalp. Gently brushed the back of her neck. Idly stroked her skin. And as thrilling as it was, there was a deep and indescribable soothing and comfort in every touch. 

She didn’t know when she began to fade. Hadn’t realized she did until she was stirred awake to the feeling of a calloused thumb gently brushing her cheek. She groaned quietly and rubbed her face in his leg before squinting at the screen. 

How long had she been out for?

She sighed shakily and twisted onto her back, looking up at him curiously. Emiya smiled back down at her. The smallest, warmest smile. “... you should get some rest. We can backtrack next time.”

She made a quiet noise of assent, reluctant to move with the way he caressed her cheek.

His eyes narrowed slightly with amusement and he hummed, bending down to kiss her forehead. “I’m _trying_ to be responsible.”

“Yeah…” she mumbled in agreement, slowly sitting up and stretching her arms out with a squeaking groan. “Okay. Night Emiya.”

“Sweet dreams, Master,” he murmured, sighing softly as he watched her shuffle out.

  
  


It took a while before Eris got inspiration for what to make next. Cream puffs. It was ambitious for her, considering she’d never really baked or made sweets before. But if she followed a recipe, how hard could it be? 

Reasonably challenging, if she wanted them to be perfect. And she refused to offer Emiya anything that wasn’t perfect. Not with his culinary skills. So she committed to sneaking in the kitchen for the next several evenings until she got it _just_ right. 

Emiya asked about their next binge-watch after a few days, but she made vague excuses. She had a project to work on. She could probably do next week. He nodded and left it after that. Or so she thought.

On her sixth evening of late night baking, she’d really gotten the hang of it. It was probably her best batch yet. She even got adventurous and tried a new flavour. She still had a few filled with vanilla custard, but the rest were a light matcha cream. By the time she finished filling the last cream puff, she placed her hands on her hips and grinned. 

They looked fantastic. Now, to see how they tasted. She wiped her hands on her apron and was about to pick one up, when she heard footsteps behind her.

“... I wondered what you’ve been up to,” Emiya said dryly, arms crossed over his chest, a wisp of a smile on his face.

“What? Go! You can’t be here,” she exclaimed, rushing to push him out of the kitchen. Eliciting a raspy chuckle from the Archer. His feet firmly planted. He wasn’t going _anywhere_. 

“It’s _my_ kitchen,” he countered, his lips curling into a proper smirk as he looked past her, a curious noise catching in his throat. “... what’s this?”

“A surprise. Or it _would_ be, if you weren’t so nosy,” she grumbled, pushing against his stomach with a frown. 

“Consider me surprised. I could smell something delicious out in the hall. Just a little taste test?” he teased, casually kissing the top of her head before inspecting the plate of cream puffs. 

Eris groaned and nodded in defeat, biting her finger nervously as he bent down to take a closer look at them. Then he looked around the rest of the kitchen, noticing how clean she’d left it. 

He picked up one of the matcha flavoured puffs and took a bite. His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a quiet, happy groan. “... fantastic.”

She bit her lip and smiled, a pleased flush rising to her cheeks as he quickly popped the rest in his mouth. “Good, I’m glad.”

Emiya faced her with a faint glimmer in his eye as he approached. She sucked in a sharp breath when he clasped the sides of her neck, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks. “... all of this, for me?” he murmured, his face warm and tender in a way she’d never seen before.

Her heart was racing so fast she was sure her words would come out in incomprehensible squeaks, so she only nodded weakly in reply.

“ _Master…_ ”

One word. Yet somehow he managed to fill it with so much meaning. So much feeling. Warmth. Surprise. Hope. Gratitude. Affection. 

And before she could blink, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers. She made a soft noise as her eyes fluttered shut and she kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his waist. He groaned with approval as he coaxed her into deepening the kiss, a hand drifting down to her back and pulling her in closer.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there for, in the dimly lit kitchen. One kiss bled into another. Over and over. Each one tasting faintly of the lightest cream as his tongue teased hers. 

He wasn’t in a rush. There was no urgent hunger to chase. No, Emiya preferred to take his time. Every kiss was warm. Content. Indulgent. Making the most of every moment she gave him. 

She was breathless and tingling all over by the time their lips finally parted. Emiya hummed happily as he nuzzled her neck and rubbed her back slowly.

“... I missed you,” he murmured in her ear, giving her a gentle squeeze.

She sighed shakily and nodded, squeezing him back.

“What’s say we finish the rest of these in front of the TV? Should be able to squeeze a few episodes in before you have to go to bed,” he suggested huskily, dropping a kiss on her temple when she nodded again.

“Okay.” Emiya picked up the plate of remaining puffs and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Let’s go.”

She leaned against him, a small, stupid smile glued to her face. “... still think it would’ve been better if I could’ve surprised you.”

Emiya paused when they entered the hallway, and bent down to kiss her warmly with a faint smirk. “Agree to disagree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/31/21) Emiya finally started making some noise in my head, so here's the start of his story. 
> 
> Not sure what's coming up next. Tossing between Proto Cu, Archer Gil, Solomon and Cuserker. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	14. Claimed (Prototype Cú)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn't sure if she was blessed or cursed, now that she had every Cú possible. She was leaning towards blessed. 
> 
> That was, until Lancer posed a dangerous question.
> 
> Which was her _favourite_?

* * *

Dealing with alters was a unique challenge that Eris faced. She tried to treat them like they were their own person, but it was always a bit mind-bending. Even if they were from a different point in time or an alternate universe, they were still the same person. Sort of. Some alters got along better than others. Artoria and Arthur for example. They had a very friendly accord. Maybe it helped that they were from parallel worlds. 

The Gils, on the other hand, were a handful. Caster and Archer frequently butted heads, and only intermittently tolerated each other’s company. Archer was hot-headed and intolerant, whereas Caster was comparatively more laid back but twice as haughty. All it took was an eyeroll and a silent, condescending smirk to set Archer off. And Caster did it as frequently as he could get away with. While Kid Gil’s placid smile and near unshakably calm demeanour drove them both to the cusp of blind anger. 

Then there were the Cús. As Eris inadvertently summoned one after another, they quickly fell into a pleasant, relaxed kinship. On the one hand, they got along the easiest. On the _other_ hand, she got along with them the easiest. She’d quickly developed a crush on Lancer when he arrived in the early days. And while it had faded over time, every new Cú managed to stir those feelings, and made her question them. 

Prototype Cú was the newest of the bunch, and although she’d been with the other Cús longer, somehow it felt easier to bond with the youngest Lancer. Maybe it was because they were closer in age. Maybe it was because he was less flirtatious, and came off as more genuine. He lacked the finessed charm that Lancer and Caster had. And although she’d never admit it, she preferred his occasional blunt, thoughtless compliments to their roguish teasings.

Not that she minded their flirtations. It was impossible not to enjoy them. Those twinkle-eyed smirks gave her flutters every time. And they knew it.

_Assholes_.

One lazy afternoon, she was surrounded with Cús while she and Proto played video games together. Lancer had his head in her lap, legs dangling over the couch arm while she leaned against Caster who was reading, and Proto sat on the floor between her legs. There were few other Servants who were as bold or casual about maintaining a close and physical rapport with their Master. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they left no room for anyone else.

It was rare that she spent time with a single Cú, as at least two drifted in at some point or other. She couldn’t tell if it was to prevent any one of them from dominating their Master’s attention and affection, or if it was simply because they enjoyed each other’s company that much. They treated each other as siblings, in the best _and_ worst ways possible, but it warmed her heart to see them together.

“Master, I’ve been thinking,” Lancer said, tickling the underside of her chin and grinning when she jerked her head away. Her eyes were glued to the screen as she attempted to catch up to Proto in the racing game they played.

“What’s that?” she asked distractedly, biting her lip hard as she saw his car looming in the distance.

“I know you pride yourself on treating us all equally, but I can’t help but think that _one_ of us is your favourite,” Lancer teased, eyes dimly lit at her annoyed snort. “And I’m curious to know which of us it is.”

“Well it wouldn’t be _you_ ,” she quipped sarcastically, despite the right corner of her mouth tugging impishly. 

“Obviously it’s me,” Caster sighed smugly, turning to kiss the side of her head with a smirk. 

“Well it’s definitely _not_ Berserker,” Lancer laughed, crossing his arms over his chest and making an amused noise. “I’m not sure he even likes you.”

“Yeah. He’s just… a wall. A spiked wall,” she said glumly, her eyes beginning to sparkle as she closed in on Proto. “Ha! I’m catching up.”

“Keep trying, Master,” Proto grinned, turning on a speed boost and widening the gap yet again. “Better not leave me out of the running. Thinkin’ _I_ might be her favourite.”

“Really? You’re a bit rough around the edges for our soft Master,” Lancer said doubtfully, turning his head to watch the race. 

“I’m not soft,” Eris muttered embarrassedly, scrunching her nose and sniffing.

“The _softest_ ,” Lancer grinned, brushing the back of his finger against her cheek and laughing when she nipped at it grumpily.

“Can’t be _that_ rough. I’m not the one with claws and a spiked tail,” Proto scoffed, letting out a victorious _whoop_ as he crossed the finish line first. _Again_. “Just cause I don’t bullshit her the way you two do…”

“It’s not bullshit,” Caster said with a mild frown, turning the page of his book. “Just because we’re smoother than you are…”

“Dunno. Think you both try too hard,” Proto shrugged, getting to his feet to switch out games. “Been watching her for a while now. You two make her smile and all, but she doesn’t take it serious. And she’s not the kind of girl you play around with. She’s the one you keep.”

Eris’ mouth gaped open in surprise at his blunt insights, her heart skipping a few beats at the way he looked at her thoughtfully. Her cheeks immediately started to burn and she cleared her throat, unsure where to rest her eyes. 

… he’d been watching her? When? For how long?? 

Proto chuckled and grinned, pleased that he’d hit the mark so close. “Yeah. That’s why the only games I play with you are video games.”

She squirmed slightly in her seat, making Lancer frown and glance between her and Proto. There was a strangely intent glint in the youngest Cú’s eyes as he fell quiet, making Lancer grumble slightly. “Don’t pick him, Master. He’s not good at sharing.”

“Mm, too possessive. I remember those days, don’t you?” Caster commented mildly with a glance at Lancer, who sighed and nodded glumly. “Thankfully we grew out of it.”

“I’m not picking anyone. I don’t have favourites,” Eris finally huffed, self-consciously rubbing her cheek. Trying to ignore the fact that Proto’s gaze had intensified, frowning slightly at his alters’ shady remarks.

“Not possessive to know what you want and have the balls to go for it,” Proto said pointedly, making the others scrunch their noses slightly. 

“Having balls has _never_ been our problem,” Caster said wryly, eliciting a quiet chuckle and nod from Lancer. “Lack of foresight, however, _that’s_ a different story.”

Lancer grunted in agreement, sighing and frowning slightly the more he watched Proto watching Eris. “... hmph. Looks like there might end up being a competition after all.”

Caster groaned and scrunched his nose, turning to the next page. “Let’s hope not.”

“Would you all stop? There’s no competition. I’m not picking favorites. I never have, I’m not going to start now,” Eris huffed, patting Lancer’s cheek lightly, still unable to meet Proto’s eyes. 

But before the youngest Cú could open his mouth to protest, the doors to the Rec Room slid open and Berserker walked in, his tail tapping the floor in agitation. She tilted her head curiously, wondering what it was, when she heard faint huffing and puffing somewhere nearby. 

Suddenly Mini Cú came bounding around the corner of the couch. He immediately glomped onto her lower leg, pressing his face against it and wrapping his tail around her ankle. This wasn’t good. Something had upset him. She was the only one he ran to for comfort.

She made a soft noise and bent over to rub his back gently. “Oh no, what happened?” she asked, turning to Berserker with a quizzical expression. 

“Medb, what else?” Berserker huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Caught him unawares.”

The other three Cús groaned in unison, looking down at their doll counterpart empathetically. 

“When will she take the hint?” Lancer sighed, reaching a hand down to pat Mini’s back, eliciting a grumpy growl as he clung tighter to Eris’ leg.

“Even a magical doll version of us doesn’t want anything to do with her,” Caster chuckled, shaking his head as he turned the page. 

“I’ll leave him with you,” Berserker said tersely, turning on his heel and exiting. Only on the rarest occasions would he hang out with the others. And even then it usually involved him sitting off to the side and listening to their banter.

“It’s alright Cú, you can stay with me. The pretty girl won’t bother you anymore today,” Eris said soothingly, scratching the back of his head.

After a few moments he slowly lifted his head, the smallest frowning pout tugging on his lips. 

“I know, she loves on you too much. Doesn’t know when to stop,” she smiled, feeling her heart burst when his tail slowly unravelled and he raised his arms up to her.

A soft crooning noise caught in her throat as she immediately picked him up and cuddled him to her chest, littering the top of his head with kisses. He quickly relaxed and purred contentedly before he wrapped himself around her arm. 

It was then she realized the remaining Cús had mild frowns on their faces. “... what?” 

“... think that answers my question about favorites,” Lancer muttered, sitting up sullenly. “She doesn’t shower _us_ with that kind of affection. And she never will if _he’s_ in the room.”

“How am I supposed to compete with _him_?” Proto grumbled, tilting his head when Mini Cú narrowed his eyes and stared at the young Lancer. He slowly nuzzled Eris’ bosom, raising his head to look at her and rumbling when she smiled and kissed his cheeks. Then he turned back to Proto with the tiniest, most evil smile. “You smug sonuvabitch!”

“Proto!” Eris said admonishingly, sitting back against the couch as Mini Cú climbed up her arm and curled himself around her shoulders to settle in for a nap. “I don’t know why you all get jealous. He’s a darling. Certainly the sweetest out of all of you.” 

“He’s the most _manipulative_ out of all of us,” Proto huffed, his lips tugging when the other two grunted in agreement. “He’s got you wrapped around his pinky. Well, if he had one.”

“ _Stop_ , he’s a doll,” she groaned, melting when little Cú dropped the lightest kiss on her cheek. “Sulking doesn’t suit any of you. I’m gonna go find us a snack. I’ll see you all later, okay?”

And with that she got to her feet and dropped a kiss on each of their cheeks before making her way towards the cafeteria. 

Proto watched her quietly, lips pursing and eyes narrowed as he began to mull over their conversations. 

Lancer observed his younger self, rubbing his chin as a smile tugged his lips. “... not gonna let it go, huh?”

“Of course he won’t,” Caster quipped dryly, offering them both an amused side glance before his gaze dropped to his book. “He’s _us_ . Would _we_ have let her go at his age?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Lancer chuckled, leaning back against the couch and resting his feet on the ottoman, scratching his belly idly. “Think he can manage it?”

“He seems determined. I’d say his odds are good. Obviously he’s got his looks going for him,” Caster hummed thoughtfully, pressing a couple fingers into his cheek. 

“ _Obviously_ ,” Lancer repeated smugly, eyes glimmering at the way Proto’s jaw locked stubbornly. “Well, I say give it a go. If she turns you down, just leaves room for us.”

“She’d do better in more experienced hands anyways,” Caster said lightly, his lips tugging mirthfully when Proto snorted with derision. 

“I’m inclined to agree,” Lancer nodded, turning to Caster with a curious frown. “... who do you think she’d pick between the two of us?”

“Why should she have to?” Caster shrugged nonchalantly, licking his finger and turning another page. 

Lancer made a throaty, musing noise. “... good point. Why choose one when she could have two?”

“Fuck off, she’d never--” Proto objected grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest while his hands clenched into fists. “-- she’s not like that.”

“Not like what? You’re too narrow-minded,” Caster sighed, the barest smirk finally appearing, enjoying how easily he could get under the young Lancer’s skin. 

“She doesn’t want two. She wants _one_ . The one who actually gives a shit enough to go after her and keep her,” Proto huffed, giving them both a disapproving glare before heading out. “And it’s gonna be _me_.” 

Caster and Lancer watched him storm off, faint smiles painting their lips as they both sighed with amusement. 

“Ah, the stubbornness of youth,” Lancer said wistfully, shaking his head as he picked up the remote and began to flip through movie options. “How long do you think it’ll take him?” 

“He’s us. It’ll take no time,” Caster smirked, chuckling throatily. “No time at all.”

  
  


A couple weeks later Eris and company found themselves treated to a mini vacation in a wintry wonderland. They were split up into a few large, private log houses, nestled around a frozen lake in an idyllic mountain range. The hotel it was connected to was a short walk away, with skiing and snowboarding available on the peaks further behind. And as expected, most of her Servants preferred to hang out in the ‘main’ house where she was staying. 

She just finished getting ready for a morning of making snowmen and having snowball fights, when she entered the Great Room. It had a massive fireplace, and a large TV mounted on top, so everyone had already decided it was the perfect place for a movie marathon. 

And what she found was nothing short of comedic chaos.

Servants had clumped together in various spots in the open areas between the lounge, dining room and kitchen. All watching as Medb chased Mini Cú in and around the furniture. He had the grumpiest scowl on his face as he trundled away from her, while the young queen tried to catch him.

“C’mon Cucu, you’ll get cold! I had this made just for you!” Medb pleaded gently, holding out the most adorable fur-lined winter coat. 

But little Cú was having none of it, darting under side tables and cursing rudely under his breath. And the moment his Master was in sight, he zipped straight for her and started climbing up her leg. 

“What’s going on now?” Eris asked confusedly, automatically cradling Cú in her arms as he clambered up her torso, wrapping his tail securely around her forearm so he couldn’t be removed. “Medb, you know you scare him when you come on too strong.”

“I wasn’t!” the girl flailed, holding up the little jacket. “I just wanted him to put this on. He had his face pressed against the window all morning, but he can’t go out in the cold dressed like that. And he won’t let me near him.”

“You make a good point,” Eris sighed, tickling Cú’s cheek. “You wanna play outside with us?” 

Cú huffed and grumbled under his breath, but slowly nodded.

“Then you’re gonna have to put on some winter clothes, sweet thing. Look at the nice jacket Medb got for you. Looks awfully soft and comfy, doesn’t it?” she asked, exchanging smiles with the girl as she bit her lip and nodded hopefully.

Cú muttered inaudibly again, craning his neck to eye the jacket suspiciously. 

“What if _I_ put it on you, hm?” Eris murmured, lifting her arms so she could drop a kiss on Cú’s head. 

After a few beats, he nodded.

“Okay. We’ll put on your jacket and have a bit of hot cocoa before we go out and play,” she smiled, nuzzling him gently and taking a seat on the couch. Medb handed the jacket with a forlorn pout, sitting on the couch perpendicular to them. 

“I don’t know why he doesn’t like me. I only want to love him,” she lamented softly, pressing her hands against her knees.

“Look who he’s modeled after. You think _Berserker_ wants anyone to glomp onto him?” Eris chuckled, eyes twinkling brightly when little Cú stood up on her legs and held his arms out patiently. She carefully slipped on the jacket, tilting her head this way and that before she fastened it. “What do you think, is it cozy?”

Cú took a moment to brush his hands on the outside, and inspect the inside more closely before giving a definitive nod. 

“Okay. Well, you should thank Medb for going to all the trouble. She just wanted to take care of you,” Eris said reproachfully, zipping up his jacket and patting his side.

Cú made a face, grumbling when Eris arched an eyebrow meaningfully. He made a low whining noise but resentfully turned around. “... thanks,” he mumbled, immediately clinging to Eris’ chest, just in case Medb tried to lunge at him with kisses. 

But she didn’t. She just smiled widely, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. “You’re welcome, Cucu. I have a scarf for you too. Do you want it?”

Cú turned to look at the little velvety blue scarf dangling from Medb’s fingers, sniffing warily. But feeling much safer in his Master’s arms, he gave a curt nod.

“... can I put it on you?” Medb asked hopefully, eyes glistening when he mumbled with annoyance, but gave another nod. She immediately got up and delicately wrapped it around him, tying it loosely in front. “Oh, you look so precious!” 

Cú frowned, his cheeks beginning to flush as he avoided her gaze with a tiny huff. But Medb didn’t move, still bent over with a small, hopeful smile. He slowly turned his head back towards her, eyes narrowed into slits. 

“One kiss?” she asked breathlessly, offering him the most adorable, longing pout.

He glared at her for several seconds before sniffing haughtily and tilting his cheek. “ _One_.”

Eris bit her lip and fought a laugh at the warm kiss Medb planted, and how quickly Cú climbed up her chest to perch on her shoulder. Just to make sure the queen couldn’t sneak in five more kisses, like she was wont to do. “Alright, lets get some breakfast and cocoa, and we’ll be off!”

  
  


The first part of the day was spent making snowmen and snow forts. In preparation for tomorrow’s snowball war. The teams were evenly matched, so it was anyone’s guess who’d win. But excepting the few most competitive Servants, it was just an excuse to laugh and horse around.

The second part of the day they splintered off further. Some wanted to go skiing or snowboarding. Others wanted to go sledding. While Eris and a few others decided to skate on the lake. Including Proto Cú, who insisted on escorting her. It was impossible not to notice he’d been getting more assertive lately. 

He made no secret that he was interested. He’d told her quite plainly after that fateful hangout with the Cús. She turned bright red at the open confession, inwardly flailing at his forwardness. Truth be told, after the initial shock, she couldn’t deny she was deeply tickled. He wasn’t the kind to mince words or be coy about his feelings. So when he said he liked her, she believed him. Not like she didn’t like him back. Not like the thought had never crossed her mind before.

There was no denying he was attractive. All the Cús were. And he was the one she clicked with the quickest, compared to the others. What the others called ‘rough around the edges’, she called genuine. She liked the no-frills version of Cú Chulainn charm. 

And given that she didn’t outright reject him or do anything to deter his advances, he took it as an open invitation to continue pursuing her. Oh boy, pursue her he did. With a dogged determination that had the other Cús giving her a wider berth than usual, and had her shivering in anticipation. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to whatever he had up his sleeves.

As they sat on a bench at the edge of the lake, slowly lacing their skates, Proto leaned over to bump her shoulder. “Master.”

“Yes?” she asked, clearing her throat and flushing at the knowing smile on his face. 

“Can we do something later?” There was a huskiness that came out when he dropped his voice, sending a shiver straight up her spine. “I want you to myself for a while.”

Her cheeks burned hotter and she made a soft noise, leaning away from him as his lips tugged into a smirk. “.... what do you want to do?”

“Don’t really care, long as you’re close,” he grinned, chest puffing up a bit at seeing how easily he could get her flustered. “Could try that new fantasy RPG you picked up. It’s single player, but we could take turns.”

She nodded slowly, scratching her cheek with a doubtful hum. “They’re doing a movie marathon tonight, couldn’t use the Great Room.”

“What about your room? It’s got a TV in it, right?” he suggested, scratching his chin thoughtfully for a moment. “Although maybe we’re better off heading back to Chaldea for a bit. Least that way we couldn’t get interrupted.”

“Don’t think we need to go that far. What if little Cú needs me?” she argued, flushing when his lips curled into a disapproving frown. “ _Don’t_ . He is _not_ competition.”

“He is when you let him steal all your time and affection,” Proto grumbled, scratching his cheek and looking at the lake sulkily. “If you drop me the second he comes into the room, he’s competition.”

“Hm. Seems every Cú’s got a bit of a grump in him, huh?” she teased, biting her lip and impulsively kissed his cheek. “Come on, don’t be mad. We can hang out tonight and I promise I won’t drop you like a hot potato.”

Between the affection and the promise, Proto’s sour expression quickly melted into an incorrigible grin. “ _Well_. When you put it like that.” He took her hand and gave it a light smooch, carefully leading her onto the ice. “Promise you won’t laugh if I fall? Never done this before.”

“You kidding me? I’d pay good money to see _any_ Cú be something other than perfectly dexterous and graceful. If you fall on your butt, I’m gonna laugh till I cry,” she exclaimed with a shit-eating grin, jerking her head when his eyes narrowed with mischief.

“If I fall, I’m taking you with me. Then _both_ our butts will be sore,” he scoffed, squeezing her hand with a meaningful smirk. 

“You wouldn’t! That’s so un-knightly of you,” she gasped with mock-offense, patiently helping him onto the ice. “What would the others say?”

“They’d say you had it coming,” he sniffed, though he gave her a playful wink, holding out his arm for balance as they ventured further onto the lake.

Later that night, Eris paced back and forth in her room nervously. She hadn’t been anxious at first, but then Cú wouldn’t stop giving her discreet, flirtatious glances from across the table at dinner. And then suddenly alone in her room playing video games took on a whole new meaning. And then she started getting nervous. And a bit excited. 

Just a bit.

But her mental nail-biting was interrupted by a sharp rapping at her door. She whipped her head up from the fire and felt her heart stop for a second. 

“Master? Help. Hands full,” Proto called out from the other side with a short laugh. 

She quickly opened the door, ushering him inside as he precariously held two full mugs and a couple bowls in his arms. 

“I have my special hot cocoa with extra little marshmallows and some munchies for later,” he informed her loftily, looking around for a place to put them, settling for the trunk by the foot of the bed. And before she could move past him to turn on the TV and game console, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck with a contented thrum. “Mmm. _This_ is what I’ve been waiting all day for. Get you alone.”

She yelped in surprise when he lifted her off her feet, but eventually she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him back. “Don’t waste any time, do you?” she asked wryly, laughing when he nipped her neck lightly. 

“Nope,” he mumbled against her skin, inhaling deeply with a happy groan. “You have no idea how good you smell.”

She chuckled awkwardly and shrugged, feeling her toes starting to curl involuntarily. “I don’t wear perfume. Maybe it’s my shampoo, or my body wash? My laundry detergent?”

“Doesn’t matter. Smells like you. Smells good,” he sighed, nuzzling her neck again before picking her up properly and depositing her on the bed. “So. Who should go first?”

“I say you start. That cocoa is looking pretty enticing,” she grinned, stretching out onto her stomach and reaching for a mug while he got everything set up. She took a careful sip and made a soft noise of approval. “You’re right, that _is_ special. Extra rich and creamy.”

“Emiya’s not the only one with talent in the kitchen,” he quipped, putting the new game on and hopping onto the bed next to her.

“Really? Had no idea you guys--”

“-- Master.” Proto interrupted her with a stern frown, carefully taking her cocoa and putting it back onto the trunk. 

“What?” she asked, brow furrowed innocently.

“I know it’s a bit… funny. I’m them and they’re me. But also, we’re not. I’m my own man. When we’re together, could you not bring them up? You and me time should be you and me time,” he said decisively, arching an eyebrow meaningfully.

She sighed and nodded, blushing with embarrassment at the reprimand. “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“-- hey, I’m not mad,” he said quickly, pulling her in closer and offering a warm smile. “It’s just… I wanna be the only Cú you’re thinking of.”

“You are,” she murmured, unconsciously biting her lower lip as she fought a smile. She stifled a noise when he brushed his thumb against her cheek, his smile broadening.

“Good. And I’m gonna keep it that way,” he smirked, leaning in to peck her lips before handing her cocoa back. “Alright, let’s hope I don’t die in the first five minutes.”

She blinked stupidly a couple times, frozen as she held the mug. Did he just kiss her? What? “I uh… yeah. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she said awkwardly after a moment, licking her lower lip and looking at him furtively. 

He must’ve seen her out the corner of his eye, cause his eyes narrowed with amusement, even as they stayed glued to the screen. “What’s wrong, Master?”

“Nothing.”

He sighed and shook his head, glancing her way with a small knowing smile. “No? Look, I hadn’t really planned to kiss you. It just sort of… happened. You looked so cute and-- guess as far as first kisses go, it’d be a bit disappointing. But a peck doesn’t count as a kiss, does it?”

She raised her eyebrows and made a thoughtful noise. She hadn’t actually considered it before. “I mean… normally I’d say it does. It’s lips. Lips on lips equals kiss. Doesn’t it?”

Cú swung his head from side to side with a doubtful noise, putting down his controller and her cocoa. _Again_. “A peck is definitely not a kiss,” he argued, licking his lower lip as a devilish twinkle appeared in his eye. “If you think a peck is a kiss, you’ve never been properly kissed.”

“What? I have,” she frowned defensively, even as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. 

“Have you?” he asked doubtfully, brushing his thumb along her jaw and across her lower lip. “Maybe I should let you be the judge. They’re your lips, after all.”

“Huh?” she replied, swallowing hard and feeling her toes curling tightly once again as her stomach performed Olympic-level gymnastics.

“Now that we’re on the subject, what better time to have a proper first kiss?” he murmured with a bare smile, leaning in to brush his lips against hers teasingly. “Don’t you think?”

She inhaled sharply, her toes suddenly flexing and overextending at the way his hand slowly stroked and kneaded her back. “I uh… mhm. Mhm.”

He chuckled huskily, wrapping her arm around her properly as he rolled her onto her back. He nibbled along her jaw teasingly, brushing their lips a couple times, humming when it elicited a strangled mewl. But he didn’t leave her wanting for long. Because just as her body stared to pulse and itch, he kissed her warmly and deeply.

She moaned approvingly, wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck as she kissed him back. He rumbled when she hooked a foot around his lower leg, threading his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly. 

Kissing him was like the first big dip down a rollercoaster. It felt like she was free falling. A rush of adrenaline. Her body suddenly lit up from head to toe. He was hungry. Demanding. But also warm. Everything he did was brimming with affection. 

The way he nipped her lower lip. The way he scratched her scalp. The way he pulled back to stare at her like she was the most wondrous, beautiful thing in existence. The way he barely let her catch her breath before diving in for another kiss. The way he relaxed his weight onto her, half pinning her on her back. Because he had no intention of letting her go.

When he finally pulled back, he continued to graze her lips with a happy rumble. “So… does a peck still count?” he asked raspily, nuzzling her neck and inhaling deeply.

“No,” she said breathlessly, rubbing his back gently as she tried to stop the world from spinning. “Definitely not.”

Holy _shit_.

“Damn straight,” he said smugly, nibbling her neck with a chuckle. With a wistful sigh, he looked at her with sparkling eyes. “Master…”

“Hm?” she smiled, trailing her fingers along his neck. 

“Am I still the only Cú you’re thinking about?” His voice was mostly confident when he asked. Mostly.

“Uh, yeah,” she laughed, guiding him closer for another soft kiss. “Definitely.”

“Good. Cause I’m keeping you,” he said, his expression earnest and sober. “Okay?”

She nodded slowly, smiling at the way her lips still tingled. As if she could still feel him on them. “Okay.”

He grinned widely and nuzzled her neck again, giving her a firm squeeze before moving off her. “Good. Now you better finish that cocoa before it gets cold.”

“Right,” she said shakily, running her fingers through her hair before rolling into her stomach again. “Cocoa.”

“We’ll see if we can’t make a bit of progress before I pounce you again,” he quipped, sitting up and starting the game. 

“Again?” she laughed, her cheeks flushed and warm when he pulled her into his lap distractedly, careful not to spill her drink.

“We’ve got all night, don’t we?” he shrugged, wrapping his arms around her as he began to play, dropping a kiss on her neck. “You didn’t think that was all you were getting, did you?”

She bit her lip and fought a grin as she leaned back against him comfortably. “No, guess not,” she murmured, craning her neck to kiss his jaw. 

He hummed happily and automatically dropped a kiss on her hair as the game’s intro cutscenes began. “ _... mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2/2/21) Well Proto Cú was desperate to get out, so here you go! Finally his time has come haha All we're missing to round out the collection is Caster Cú. So you know he's gonna have to have his turn too. 
> 
> Or maybe Caster x Lancer x MC. They brought it up and I was like... HUH.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	15. ** The King's Pet (Archer Gil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It'd been weeks since she'd slept in her own bed. Wrapped up every night in the King of Heroes. 
> 
> Maybe she should've been flattered. Thrilled. Honoured? 
> 
> But she couldn't help but wonder. Why her? Was it real? Or was this all some kind of cruel game to stop his endless boredom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Warning: Mild nudity and sexuality

* * *

Eris was brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed when she heard an all-too familiar thrum behind her. She sighed and hung her head for a moment before reluctantly looking back and seeing one of Gilgamesh’s golden gates. She pursed her lips and shook her head, spitting toothpaste in the sink and slowly rinsing her mouth out. No point in rushing. The gate would stay open until she walked through. Same as it had every night since-- 

… how long had it been?

Didn’t matter, there was never any getting used to it. She couldn’t quite accept it as her new normal. Because it was anything but normal. Yet she couldn’t seem to break away from it either. No matter how much she argued, sulked or flailed, it changed nothing. The gate would appear, and eventually she’d go through it. 

The King of Heroes had pulled her in with the vice-like grip of gravity. Why? She had no clue. All she knew was that he was  _ not  _ letting go, whether she liked it or not. And she wasn’t sure how she felt either way. Which was why she kept going through the gate. Which was why she kept their ‘nightly arrangement’ to herself. So did he.

Even though everyone in Chaldea had noticed a shift between them. Gilgamesh’s temper flared far less, although he was twice as smug to compensate. There was a certain relaxedness that had washed over him, though no one had any idea why. 

Eris knew. And every time someone commented that he’d been almost close to tolerable, her stomach alternated between fluttering and churning. Something about knowing she could affect his mood so strongly. Feeling wary about why she did. Feeling unsure about his real motivations or intentions. Worried that it was all some sick game. Feeling guilty because Gilgamesh being content made everyone else’s lives easier. And she cared more about their well-being than her own uncertainty and insecurities. 

So she continued to indulge him, even if it was resentfully sometimes.

When she was done in the bathroom, she undid her bun and shook her loose curls out, scanning her room one last time. She probably wouldn’t end up sleeping right away. Better bring entertainment. She grabbed the book she’d been reading off her desk and squeezed the back of her neck tightly before walking through the gate. 

Hopefully Gilgamesh was in a good mood.

When she arrived on the other side, she saw him stretched out on a chaise on the far end of the room, his forearm resting on his brow lightly while the other swished a cup of wine. She clasped her both her hands around the book and watched expectantly, sniffing when he opened an eye with a bare smirk. 

He inhaled slowly and deeply before making a subtle, sharp motion with his finger, summoning her closer. “I’m cold,” he said huskily, and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing them roll to the back of her head. 

He wasn’t cold. He was  _ never  _ cold. And if he was, he was surrounded by blankets and throws of all shapes and sizes. Littered all over his room. Oh look, there was one right at his feet! It didn’t take long to realize that what he said and what he meant were two different things. And ‘being cold’ was simply his excuse. 

As she walked over to him, she couldn’t help but wonder if his thorniness had something to do with a lack of affection as he grew up. Did his parents actually raise him? Did  _ anyone  _ raise him? Did anyone cuddle or snuggle or dote on him the way she doted on his young alter? Maybe that was why he always seemed jealous of the attention she gave little Gil. 

It was something he never had. Maybe something he wanted or needed, but didn’t realize it. Couldn’t put words to. Or knowing him, stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Thinking himself above such things. When it became clear over the course of their evenings together that he wasn’t. 

She dropped her book at his feet, casually (and somewhat defeatedly) draping herself on top of him. She hid her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist with a weary sigh.

Gilgamesh hummed with approval, putting down his cup and wrapping an arm around her as he threaded his fingers through her hair. He lowered his head, pressing his lips lightly to her neck and inhaled deeply. “Mm. You’re wearing the new lotion I gave you,” he murmured against her skin, and she could hear a small smile stretch his lips. 

She made a soft noise of agreement, exhaling shakily when the hand wrapped around her waist found its way under her tank top, idly travelling along her skin. 

“Good girl,” he said huskily, biting her neck gently as he slowly dragged his nails up her back. Not enough to hurt. Enough to make faint lines along her back. She couldn’t stop the full body shiver at his touch. Couldn’t stop resenting him when he chuckled smugly at her body’s reaction to him. “So sensitive…” 

She grunted in reply, squirming slightly as he stroked her back. She could never quite get used to his touch. It came with a low hum of sensual electricity that always left her tingling, no matter what she did. It was quiet, in a way the King never usually was. At least, not out there. 

Here, she saw a completely different side of Gilgamesh. One that she didn’t think existed. One that she was certain he was incapable of. She could never quite believe it. She couldn’t let herself. 

“Not sleepy yet?” he asked quietly, his fingers trailing along her waist.

She shook her head and shivered, squeezing him gently. “No.”

Gilgamesh nodded, pressing his lips to her shoulder before patting her bum lightly. “Very well. Turn around.”

She got up with a groan and reached for her book as well as the blanket hanging off the edge of the chaise. He sat up and raised his right knee, smiling to himself at the way she threw the blanket over both of them and nestled against him. Thoughtlessly. Out of habit. 

A habit he stubbornly and persistently enforced over countless nights. 

“And what are you reading tonight?” he asked, sweeping her bangs away and kissing her temple.

“Dune,” she mumbled, huffing when he pressed his lips against her hair. He was so… calm. Affectionate. So casual about it. It was unnerving. It always had her on edge. She couldn’t stop bracing herself, tensing up every now and then. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the growling, moody monster to emerge from the shadows and reject her callously. 

But it didn’t. Not as long as she was willing to stay close. 

He made a vaguely interested noise, tucking the blanket around her before sliding a hand along her back. He summoned a book for himself and began reading with her, his fingers idly trailing along her skin. 

It was almost a comfortable silence that fell between them. 

Almost. 

She managed to finish a couple chapters before she accidentally let out a yawn. She muffled a whine right after, making a face when Gilgamesh took her book and put it aside. 

“No whining. Bed,” he said with a wry smile, nuzzling her neck and wrapping his arms around her. 

“It was  _ one _ yawn. I’m okay to stay up a while longer,” she huffed, making an annoyed noise when he trailed kisses up her neck. “Ugh,  _ stop _ . I’m going.”

“Only you would consider the King’s affection a punishment,” he muttered snippily, tightening his hold when she tried to squirm away. “I’ve never seen a more ungrateful mongrel.”

Eris sighed, seeing the warning signs of a fight coming a mile away. It wouldn’t be their first, and she was sure it wouldn’t be their last. But she also knew how to prevent them. 

She turned around, half straddling his lap, and nuzzled his neck gently. He made a smug, pleased noise and pulled her in closer. “ _ Better _ ,” he murmured victoriously, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

She bit her lip and fought a smile, feeling the faintest wriggle of pleasure despite herself. Knowing she could nudge his temper back that easily. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be possible. She’d been so sure of it.

“I  _ could _ be persuaded to let you stay up a bit longer…” he teased, tickling her waist meaningfully as his lips grazed along her jaw.

And that was all it took to make her stiffen. 

“No,” she said quietly, pulling back enough to eye him distrustfully. 

Gilgamesh frowned, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No?  _ Still _ no?” 

“No,” she mumbled, scrunching her nose and staring at the door. “I won’t be used. You can find someone else for that.”

“I don’t want someone else,” he snapped, his cheeks flushing at the admission. “Although perhaps  _ you _ do…”

She could feel herself being shoved down a very slippery slope, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t. I’ve told you.”

“And why should I believe you? If you withhold affection from your King, the next logical conclusion is because you’re reserving it for someone else,” he growled, tilting his head and trying to force her to meet his gaze.

“I’m not. There’s no one else,” she protested, her stomach churning painfully. She hated this argument more than any other. Because the more nights she spent with him, the more loaded the topic became. The more complicated her feelings were. The more impossible it became to explain. 

Because there was a growing part of her that wanted to believe it was real. Wanted to believe that the affection he offered and demanded was genuine. That there were real feelings behind it. But the rest of her refused to. After everything she’d seen, everything she knew about him, how could this be anything but a game? Nothing more than his natural instinct to dominate. His massive ego in need of stroking.

“No? Then why? Why do you still keep me at an arm’s length?” he demanded, gripping her arms lightly as he continued to scowl.

“Why am I here?” she countered, meeting his glare with a confused frown. “You could have anyone you wanted, and you know it. So why am  _ I _ the one summoned to your chambers every night? It makes no sense. You expect I’ll just— that what, I’m supposed to believe...“

Her words trailed off and bit her lower lip, shaking her head forlornly. “And then you accuse me that there’s someone else. How could there be? I’m here  _ every  _ night. You’ve all but forced everyone else to keep their distance. And I’m not the type to-- I don’t play games like that. You  _ know  _ I don’t.”

He hissed with annoyance, relaxing his hold on her arms and rubbing them gently. Almost in apology, if it wasn’t so brooding. “... no, you don’t,” he admitted resentfully, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “What you give, you give only to your King.” 

She nodded, nestling against him with a soft huff. 

A thick silence fell between them as he began to run his fingers through her hair, slowly nuzzling her neck. Again, as if to say sorry though the words would never leave his lips. Never in a million years.

When her body finally relaxed, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and patted her back gently. “Bed.”

“Are you still mad?” she mumbled distrustfully against his neck, refusing to move and eliciting an amused chuckle. 

“I’m not pleased,” he said pointedly, picking her up with a sigh and carrying her to bed himself. “Nor am I mad.”

She made a soft noise of acknowledgement, still feeling a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. They were reaching a crossroads, and she was flailing at what to do. Did she want more? Maybe. It was hard to think clearly when he plied her with affection. He knew every button to press and when. It was unnerving. He had her body tingling and pulsing in a way that it never had before. But she couldn’t help but think that the moment he got what he wanted, he’d get bored and toss her aside. And if he did, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to forgive herself. Letting him in closer than anyone else on a fool’s hope, only to be let down. 

He put her down on the bed, watching as she crawled under the covers on the right side. His lips pinched for a moment as he stared at her, deep in thought. Finally he slid in next to her, curling around her from behind. “Sleep,” he murmured, caressing her belly gently as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. 

She made a quiet noise and rubbed his forearm in return, feeling a strange ache in her chest. If only there was a way to know. He’d never admit feelings outright. He’d scoff at the mere suggestion. If she could just figure out the truth, she’d know which way to go, rather than hover in this uncomfortably intimate limbo forever. 

If only. 

  
  


It’d been a long time since Eris had summoned a new Servant. Try as she might, no one would answer her call. So she continued to try, faithfully every couple weeks in the hopes that the tide would turn. And when they finally did, she was stunned. Blinking dumbly in the Summoning Room as a flawless person with long, green hair smiled back at her. 

“Servant, Lancer. Enkidu. Your call has activated me. Please use me as you wish. Mercy is unnecessary, Master.”

Eventually she bit her lip and smiled, offering him a polite nod. “Welcome. I think Gilgamesh will be happy to see you.”

Enkidu’s eyes widened slightly, his lips tugging gently on the right. “Gilgamesh is here? Hm. That stirs nostalgic memories.”

“I guess so. Would you like to see him first, or would you prefer if I took you to your quarters?” she asked, clasping her hands behind her back as the Lancer stepped off the Summoning Circle and looked around curiously. 

“I have quarters? I’m not sure that’s necessary, Master,” he said, tilting his head and observing her curiously. “Unless you want me to.”

Eris shrugged, scratching her cheek. “I mean, it’s not a requirement if you don’t want one. I just thought it’s nice for everyone to have a space that’s all their own.”

“Everyone?” he repeated with a confused frown, eyes darting about the hallway as he took in his surroundings. “You have more than myself and Gilgamesh?”

She laughed and nodded, pushing her lips to the side and squeezing the back of her neck when Enkidu watched her patiently. “Yeah, it’s… hm. A bit of a long story. Guess I better start from the beginning…”

  
  


As she suspected, Gilgamesh was immensely pleased with his old friend’s arrival, immediately ushering him into his quarters so they could catch up. It was strange, seeing how relaxed and friendly he behaved towards his old companion. And as day passed into evening, she still hadn’t seen a trace of either of them. She wondered if maybe for the first in a long time, she wouldn’t be summoned to the King’s bed. 

She was wrong.

Just as she was slipping into her PJs, a golden portal appeared in the middle of her room. Hmph. She continued with her usual nightly ablutions, then grabbed her book and headed in. Except the sight that greeted her made her freeze on the spot. 

Gilgamesh lazed about on his chaise, while Enkidu relaxed on the couch opposite him. 

He still summoned her, even while he had company? No one knew where Chaldea’s young Master spent her nights. Or  _ who  _ she spent them with. And she’d intended to keep it that way, for as long as possible. Did Gil instruct him to keep quiet? Did he not care? Was Enkidu the type of person to mention it casually if it came up? She didn’t know. She didn’t know him. She’d only just summoned him.

And as she got caught up in her whirling thoughts, Gilgamesh clucked his tongue and motioned sharply towards her. “Come,” he said imperiously, a frown threatening to appear at the way she hesitated. 

She knew they were friends. More than that. Enkidu was his  _ only  _ friend. His only equal. And she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and awkward as she slowly made her way towards them. 

She was suddenly and keenly aware of how flimsy her chemise was. How short her pajama shorts were. The utter lack of anything beneath them. She’d stopped thinking about it ages ago. She took it for granted. The only person who ever saw her without a night robe was Gilgamesh. And it wasn’t as if he leered or made lascivious comments, so she never gave it much thought. 

Until she found herself in front of a complete stranger.

“Did you step in molasses before you arrived? Stop dawdling,” he huffed impatiently, drawing her into his lap the second she was within arm’s reach. 

She mumbled inaudibly, her cheeks burning a bright red at how casually he ran his fingers through her hair. 

But her embarrassment only served to amuse him. He gave her a gentle squeeze and nodded to Enkidu. “Why so shy? He knows you’re mine,” he teased smugly, while his old friend smiled placidly. 

It didn’t help. And what was that even supposed to mean?

She let out a doubtful, throaty noise but leaned against him, self-consciously reaching for a blanket to cover herself with. 

“I must admit, it’s unusual,” Enkidu finally commented, taking a quiet sip of wine. “One could almost think you were quite… taken with her.” 

Gil immediately scoffed, his cheeks turning a faint pink when he pressed his lips to her shoulder and stroked her waist. “Ridiculous. Our Master is a needy little thing. She’s incapable of sleeping anywhere else. Of relaxing anywhere but in her King’s arms. It amuses me, so I indulge her.”

Her jaw dropped and she snorted, pursing her lips tightly as she kept her barbed remarks to herself. She’d bring it up later. Starting a fight in front of his friend would make things ten times worse. But boy, was she raring for one now.

“... I see,” Lancer replied, though there was a dim light behind his eyes. She wondered if he could see past the King’s blatant lies. She hoped so. “Well, it’s late and I expect our Master needs to sleep. I’ll leave you two.”

Enkidu got up gracefully and bowed his head before sweeping out of the room. And the moment he disappeared into the hallway, her hands slowly clenched into fists. 

Gilgamesh sat back and sighed contentedly, nudging her waist and encouraging her to cuddle up to him. But she was stiff as a board, eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “What? Are you upset that someone usurped your time with me?” he chuckled, completely unbothered by her scowl.

“ _ I’m _ a needy thing? _ I _ can’t sleep anywhere but here?  _ I’m  _ only happy in your arms? Are you serious?” she snapped, ripping herself from his grasp and getting to her feet. “That’s a complete load of—“

“-- Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, warning growl.

“I can’t sleep anywhere else because you won’t let me! I can’t be near anyone else because you pitch a fit if someone so much as looks at me in a way you don’t like!  _ I’m  _ not the needy one here,  _ you  _ are. You just don’t want to admit it,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Let me out.” 

“ _ No _ .” Gilgamesh stood up and snorted, eyeing her suspiciously. “You will stay where you belong.”

“Where I belong, yeah right,” she scoffed, shaking her head irritably. “You can’t even admit the truth! You  _ want  _ me here. Why? Who could even know. Do you have genuine feelings for me, or is it all just a game to prevent you from neverending boredom? Does it even matter? You can’t be honest about it either way!” 

It was the king’s turn to glare, crossing his arms over his chest. Refusing, as always, to admit anything. “After all I’ve given you,  _ this  _ is how you would repay me? You’d throw the King’s generosity back in his face like a worthless wretch?”

“I never wanted it! I never asked for it, I didn’t even give the vaguest hint.  _ You’re  _ the one that came out of nowhere and stuck me in this golden cage,” she argued, bristling with angry confusion.

“Oh, so this  _ isn’t  _ precisely what you want? Then why do you come here every night? Why do you shiver at my touch? You never sleep so deeply or soundly than in my arms.  _ Ridiculous _ . As though I forced myself upon you. I have  _ never  _ taken what wasn’t freely given,” he spat, approaching her slowly.

“I’m not saying you have! I’m saying… I’m saying you want me here and you’re too damned proud to admit it. It’s not fair to put it all on me, like I’m some pathetic puppy following you around. I’m  _ not _ . I’ve never been,” she said with frustration, one hand on her hip while the other gripped her hair tightly. 

Gilgamesh’s eyes narrowed into red slits when he stopped in front of her, slowly eyeing her from head to toe. After several moments he inhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Come to bed. You’re exhausted, it’s making you irritable.”

“ _ You’re _ making me irritable,” she said grumpily, wrapping her arms around herself and scuffing her foot against the ground. 

“Then leave,” he shrugged indifferently, opening a golden portal. “I’m not holding you hostage. You remained here because you wanted to. What you gave, you gave of your own accord. And what you received, you enjoyed to the fullest. Even if  _ you’re  _ too proud to admit it.” 

Eris pursed her lips and stared at the gate, then back at Gilgamesh distrustfully, unable to deny his pointed insights.

A smug, wry smile curved his lips at her sullen silence, and he reached out to stroke her waist. “ _ Now _ who’s stubborn? Come to bed then.” There was an extra gravel in his voice that had her toes curling in her white bunny slippers. “Or do you expect me to beg for your company? You’ll be sorely disappointed if that’s the case.”

She made a frustrated noise, scratching the side of her head even as he coaxed her in closer. She should’ve walked away. She should’ve stormed out of the room. Yet there she was, slowly wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest with a grumble. 

What was it about him? He had her wrapped around his pinky sure as anything. It was one thing to know she could affect him. It was another thing entirely to accept that he could affect her just as easily. He was such an impossible, egotistical, arrogant, smug jackass. How could she get so weak in the knees for him? He  _ expected  _ her to behave that way. She’d been so determined to be the one girl who wouldn’t. 

But no. She was just like all the rest. And she hated it.

He scooped her up easily and nipped her neck, casually closing the gate and carrying her to bed. “Do you know what I think?” he asked lightly, as though it was a rhetorical question.

She grunted and mumbled, cheeks flushing when he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed with amusement. She straddled his hips and his hands wrapped loosely around her, grazing against her lower back. “... what?” she asked warily, suspicious of the mild twinkle in his eye. 

“I think you want more than what you’ve been given. I think you don’t want me at an arm’s length anymore,” he murmured, slowly sliding his hands up her back, pressing her forward as he nuzzled her neck. 

Immediately her stomach clenched into a dozen tight knots, and her toes curled painfully. She inhaled sharply, gripping his shoulders when he laughed breathily against her skin. 

“My poor, poor Master,” he continued, nipping down her neck and along her shoulder, his hands beginning to gently knead her back. “Craving the King’s touch, unable to admit it.  _ Fool _ .”

Her thoughts became blurrier and blurrier, and she strained to focus on anything but the feel of his tongue dragging along her skin. The wet warmth of his lips. The pinch of his teeth into her flesh. The heat that was beginning to pool. A need that was beginning to ache and pulse. 

She couldn’t focus. Nothing else existed. Nothing outside of his body pressed against hers. The scandalous, sinful things he whispered in her ear. She couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping her lips. Couldn’t stop her nails from digging into his shoulders. Couldn’t stop herself from mewling when he suddenly flipped her onto her back, looming over her with a hungry smirk.

“Hm. Look who’s still here,” he gloated, clasping her wrists and slowly dragging them above her head as he continued to drop kisses along her collar bone.

She gasped, writhing slightly underneath him. “Not fair,” she managed to say, arching her neck and shutting her eyes. Desperately trying to put a coherent thought together.

“Fair?” he laughed derisively, shaking his head with amusement. He paused for a moment, raising himself to look at her thoughtfully, a thin glaze of lust over his eyes. Eventually he decided to keep her wrists pinned with one hand while the other grazed along the top of her tank top. 

She shivered and gasped when she felt a finger dip inside, brushing the back of his knuckle against her soft flesh. All the while staring at her with a feline smile. Teasing. Defiant. Daring her to stop him. But she didn’t. All she managed was a muffled mewl as he grazed back and forth against her nipple until it was peaking.

“So sensitive,” he murmured to himself, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest. He casually pulled her tank top down, eyes roaming along her face as if slowly cataloguing every reaction. Etching it into memory as his fingers traced the shape of her breast. Palmed it gently, testing how she filled his hand. Pinching her nipple lightly to keep it pert. 

Her breathing became heavy under his methodical care. He wasn’t in a rush. Quite the opposite. He was drawing the moment out as long as he could. As long as she could stand it. 

And then he kept going.

Heat radiated between them as he slowly lowered his face to her with the barest, hungriest smile. “What does my little Master want, I wonder?” Another rhetorical question as he grazed his lips against hers. But even as she sighed against his lips, he pulled away and wrapped his mouth around her nipple instead.

A guttural moan caught in her throat and her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue slowly circling before he began suckling eagerly. How many nights had she denied him? How many nights did he have to make up for? 

Too many, with the way his teeth lightly tugged her nipple. She quickly began to lose track of time, arching and straining against his mouth. Whimpering when he bit into the side of her breast, then immediately licked and kissed the spot. Over and over. He was determined to explore every single inch of her until he knew her body like his own. 

And damned if she wasn’t happy to let him. He lit her from the inside out. Until he’d captured every single one of her senses. Until he owned them completely. 

Eventually he switched hands, still keeping her wrists pinned while the other pulled the other side of her tank top. And his mouth continued to map out her other breast. Suckling, nipping, kissing, licking in an endless cycle. Occasionally nuzzling her sternum, pleased with every mewl and moan that escaped her lips. There was no questioning it. She was  _ his _ . He was the only one in her mind. His was the only name she breathlessly whispered. Like a prayer. Quietly begging him for more. 

But would he give it to her? After an age, he finally retreated from her breasts, returning to watch her with a small, miserly smile. Noting how flushed her cheeks were. The way her eyes were glazed over with want. An ache that pulled with more force between her legs. Hard enough that she was squeezing her thighs together, trying to find any relief. 

“Hm. Is this what my little Master wants?” he asked huskily, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck. “Is this what she would ask of her King?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. Wasn’t sure if she could. But her neck instinctively arched when he hovered his lips near hers. 

Gilgamesh chuckled smugly, humming contentedly as he nipped her lower lip. Teasing and denying at the same time. “You are  _ mine _ . You have  _ always  _ been mine. You  _ will always  _ be mine,” he murmured, an edge of danger in his voice. A promise and a warning at the same time. “Say it.”

She groaned weakly, inhaling when he let go of her wrists and returned to fondling her breast idly. All the while maintaining eye contact, arching an eyebrow expectantly. 

“Say it.”

She gasped, licking her lower lip and squeaking when he pinched a nipple lightly. Her mind was a pool of sensations. Not a thought to be found anywhere. Logic weakly attempting to crawl out of the sensual quagmire he was drowning her in. But eventually she gave a subtle nod. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I will always be yours.” 

A hungry, approving growl rippled in his throat before he kissed her fiercely. The next thing she knew, his weight was on her, his fingers were tangled in her hair and his tongue slid along the seam of her lips demandingly. 

There was nothing for it. There was no looking back. She’d finally crossed the line he’d been coaxing her towards for weeks. 

And as her arms wrapped around his neck, as her fingers wove into his hair. As her legs wrapped around him instinctively. As she met every kiss with equal fervour and desire, she accepted the truth. 

She didn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone but him. He was all she could see. 

And that was  _ exactly  _ what he wanted. What he’d always wanted.

She shouldn’t have been surprised at the way he chased one kiss with another. The possessive way he bit her lower lip. The way he brushed his tongue with hers. Claiming her with every kiss, every touch. Silently declaring his ownership over her. No one would ever come near her again. She’d kiss no lips but his. Her hands would be nowhere but on him. 

No one would  _ ever  _ take what was his.

And just as lust left her throat dry and parched with want, he pulled away. Breathing heavily, and still voraciously hungry. He licked his lower lip, smirking at the way she mewled, scratching the back of his neck and urging him to return his mouth to hers. 

“... that’s enough for tonight,” he finally said, laughing raspily at the way she whined and squirmed underneath him. So smugly satisfied at the breathless, disheveled state he put her in. He got up and sat on his heels, taking a moment to sweep his hands underneath her tank top, pulling it off in one fell swoop. “I don’t think that will be necessary anymore.” 

He tilted his head, roaming her exposed breasts with quiet approval, idly fondling one before scooping her up and bringing her into bed properly. 

And all she could do was give him a disgruntled frown. Her pelvis ached and throbbed in a wicked way, and he was just going to leave it at that?? 

ASSHOLE.

He laughed again, dropping a light kiss on her lips before nudging her onto her side. “Needy little thing. Why should the King be in a rush? I will drink you in like the finest wine. One sip at a time,” he murmured, pulling the covers over them and pressing his body tightly against her back. 

And she didn’t miss a certain hardness twitching near her bum. She couldn’t stop herself from arching her back, teasing him as cruelly as he had her. 

He groaned and bit her shoulder roughly as he wrapped an arm around her, and pinched her nipple reprimandingly. “Keep it up and I will deprive you further,” he growled in her ear, tugging on her earlobe when she stopped with a grumble. “Now  _ sleep _ .”

“You must be joking,” she scoffed, taking his hand and nipping his finger with annoyance, squeaking when he responded by biting her neck. “You rile me up and then tell me to sleep?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he said smugly, steadying his breathing as he brushed his cheek against her shoulder. “You’ve yet to earn your pleasure. But you will. Eventually.” 

She frowned, staring at the wall as the sensual fog began to clear. Earn? She suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. How long would he tease and torture like this? 

“... you’re gonna make me beg, aren’t you?” she said suspiciously, bristling when he chuckled with amusement. 

“So, she’s smarter than she looks,” he murmured, easily drifting off to sleep, cupping a breast and squeezing it gently. 

“Hey!” she frowned, elbowing him gently. “ _ Rude _ .” 

“ _ Sleep _ . I won’t say it again,” he growled, pinching her nipple with an annoyed huff. 

She grumbled under her breath, pulling the covers tighter around her shoulder, and shivering when she felt his lips press lightly against her back. A simple, thoughtless gesture. But that was all it took to make her melt. To have her body relax and slump into the mattress. 

Maybe she was his. 

But maybe…  _ he  _ was also  _ hers _ . 

All hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2/5/21) Well looks like Gil refused to be ignored anymore, and he decided to start turning the heat up. 
> 
> Not sure who's up next. Maybe Berserker Cu. Maybe Solomon? We'll see where the wind takes me. 
> 
> Hope you all have a good weekend!


	16. ** Mine Pt. 3 (Cú Alter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when she thought Cú's claim was a grumpy, sweet metaphor, the young Master quickly realized how wrong she was. 
> 
> In the best and worst ways possible...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT
> 
> Tags: Size difference, claiming, biting, knotting, cock warming

* * *

It was only a handful of steps as Berserker carried her to the bathroom, but it might as well have been a mile with the way time suddenly slowed down. 

What the hell was she doing? What the hell was she  _ thinking _ ? 

But Cú had no intention of letting her dwell, propping her on the counter and capturing her lips immediately for a hungry kiss.

There. That.  _ That _ was how.

She made a soft surprised noise, but couldn’t stop herself from kissing back. Slowly weaving her fingers in his hair and wrapping her legs around his hips. He growled with approval, sliding a hand down her leg, his claws catching on her leggings. He huffed and clasped the back of her heel, tossing her shoe to the ground. Then he immediately traveled back upwards, greedily palming her clothed breast, squeezing gently. 

A shaky moan caught in her throat, quickly changing into a squeak when his fingers impatiently tucked under her jacket and sliced it open. Buttons popped and fell carelessly between them and she broke from the kiss to shove his chest with a groan. 

“Oh my god, you can’t-- you’ve ruined--” she started to protest, but her words were quickly interrupted by another growling kiss as Cú pulled the jacket off her shoulders and tossed it to the ground. 

He had no time or patience to undress her with even the smallest modicum of consideration. Her clothes were little more than an aggravating barrier between them, and he would be rid of them as quickly as he could. He didn’t need to say it, she understood perfectly with the way he snarled at her tank top. He sliced it open as well and threw the tattered remains as far away as he could. 

“ _ Mine _ ,” was all he managed to murmur before he cut the back of her bra open, quickly tugging it off. She shivered as he wrapped a hand around her bum, pulling their hips flushed together as the other slid up and down her back, rumbling deeply with approval when he could finally access her skin. 

But she couldn’t quite turn her brain off, no matter how hard her pelvis began to throb. No matter how slick his growling purrs made her. She wasn’t sure when he’d vanished his clothes, realizing she was touching bare flesh as she gripped his arms to steady herself. 

“Cú, stop. You’re destroying my-- how am I supposed to--” she argued again, moaning lamentingly when more buttons popped off and he tossed her skirt to the ground. 

“Useless,” he grumbled, pulling away only just enough to tug her leggings and panties off in one fell swoop. He hummed contentedly when she was finally stripped, leaning in again to kiss her with the kind of hunger that made her stomach knot and flutter desperately. 

She could barely keep up with him, clasping the sides of his neck as he claimed her mouth over and over, resentfully giving her only the smallest breaths in between. Meanwhile his hands explored her body brazenly. Running along the crease between her thigh and hip, brushing his thumb along her nipples teasingly, fondling her breasts with approving groans. 

It occurred to her after several seconds of dizzying, tingle-inducing groping that he must’ve taken off all his armor because his claws were nowhere to be found. There was nothing to separate his skin from hers, and with the way his exploration suddenly slowed down, the deep chesty purrs that escaped his lips, it was clear that was what he’d wanted from the start. 

He kneaded and squeezed her bum firmly, running his teeth along her shoulder and up her neck, finally giving her a chance to catch her breath. Her head was spinning when he wrapped her legs around his hips, picking her up and leading her back to the bedroom.

“Wait, I thought we were going to shower,” she gasped, her eyes running along his bare skin distractedly. 

“Later,” he grunted, nipping her shoulder and sweeping his hand along her back. Without another word he lowered her onto the bed and settled between her legs, pressing his weight against her enough to keep her pinned. 

“Cú,” she protested weakly, gasping in shock when he pressed his hips to hers thoughtlessly, and she felt a very stiff and  _ very  _ sizable erection rub against her belly. 

Oh no. No no no  _ no _ . No way. That was… no. Too much. Way too much. She didn’t even need to look to know that he might actually split her in two. Okay, maybe not in two. Maybe only full to bursting. But with the way he continued to escalate their physical intimacy, she was suddenly terrified that he might thoughtlessly try to penetrate her. And without any prep, she  _ would  _ suffer dearly.

“ _ Cú _ ,” she repeated more firmly, moaning in surprise when his lips travelled from her neck to her collarbone and finally found purchase around her nipple. He barely acknowledged her, sliding a hand around her back and digging his fingers into her shoulder blade as he suckled forcefully, his hips unconsciously grinding against her leg. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. No. She couldn’t get swept up in-- but the way he bit into the side of her breast. Pinching hard enough to nearly break skin. The way he quickly licked the prickling pain away with his warm tongue. The way his fingers kneaded along her torso. It was damn near impossible to focus.

“Cú!” she finally managed to say insistently, digging her heel into the back of his thigh repeatedly to get his attention. 

But Cú had no interest in her protests. Not when his nostrils were filled with the sweet, heady, scent of her arousal. No. She didn’t want him to stop. Not really. Her anxiety was baseless and irrelevant. She was  _ his _ . He could smell her need. He could hear it in her breathless, guttural mewling. And it was both his job  _ and  _ his pleasure to see her needs were satisfied. Because the last thing he would tolerate was a challenger to her affections. He’d tear the throats of anyone who so much as looked at her wrong.

Eris whimpered desperately, gripping her hair and staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to get his attention. She should’ve known better. She shouldn’t have been surprised by his ravenous tunnel-vision. He was a  _ Berserker _ . And although he appeared calm, controlled and emotionless in most circumstances, it was clear he was holding nothing back now. He swept her up like a hurricane, with no intention of letting her go. And it was getting harder and harder to come up with a reason,  _ any _ reason to stop him. 

“Cú, please. I just--” 

Her words were immediately swallowed when he snarled and kissed her irritably. As eager to shut her up as she was to make him slow down. She moaned softly against his lips, tightening her legs around his hips while he growled approvingly. But in a slippery moment of clarity, she tore herself from yet another string of head-spinning kisses, forcibly grabbing his ponytail and pulling his head back. 

“What?” he snapped with a sulky scowl, eyes narrowed warily while he idly groped her breast. 

“I just… fuck, give me a second,” she laughed breathlessly, flushed and dazed as she struggled to put a sentence together. “I just… I wanna make sure you don’t-- I mean, you can’t--”

“Don’t what? Can’t what?” he huffed impatiently, quickly becoming distracted again as his lips grazed along her jaw.

Eris groaned and tugged on his ponytail again, eliciting an angry growl, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Don’t, I’m… you’re making it hard to think,” she said weakly, her throat going dry at his lusty, feral gaze. “I just want to make sure you don’t-- I can’t…  _ ugh _ . I can’t take you without prep. Like… a  _ lot  _ of prep.  _ All  _ the prep. Do you… do you know what I mean?”

Cú frowned at her words, finally pausing thoughtfully for several seconds before he laughed huskily. “Is  _ that  _ all? Like I don’t know how small you are. I  _ like  _ how small you are,” he purred, a deadly, predatory kind of gravel in his voice as he nibbled along her neck. “We’ll fit.”

“Will we?” she asked doubtfully, arching her back at the way he rolled her nipple between his fingers idly. “I mean, I can feel how--”

“ _We’ll_ _fit_ ,” he repeated with an amused chuckle, kissing her slowly and deeply, with an unexpectedly warm reassurance. “I’ll make sure of it. _Without_ harm.” 

Eris breathed a huge sigh of relief at that, her whole body relaxing as she scratched the back of his neck in silent thanks. 

“Silly girl,” he teased raspily, nipping her lower lip before giving her a hard, commanding stare. “No more interruptions.” 

It was her turn to laugh in surprise, finally groaning and nodding in assent, and pulled him in for another warm, sensual kiss. “Okay, okay. No more interruptions.”

His eyes narrowed warily as he watched her for several seconds, before grumbling and latching onto her other nipple. He gave her a firm and incredibly possessive squeeze, groaning in approval when she arched her back, unconsciously encouraging him to continue. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, eyes fluttering shut and moaning gutturally as he quickly overwhelmed her senses again. One hand kneading her bum. The other fondling a breast. Biting and licking the other. His hips continuing to mindlessly grind against her leg. 

How the hell had she ended up here again?

Eris shook her head and sighed softly, scratching his head gently as he slowly made his way down her torso. She couldn’t say what it was that made her throw all caution to the wind. Maybe it was his stubborn determination to claim her for himself. Maybe it was the way he explored her body. The greedy abandon in every touch, every kiss. Every bite that threatened to pierce her skin, but never did. 

And then suddenly it stopped. Without warning. She let out a trembling moan of anticipation when his rumbling, chesty purrs hit her ears. When she suddenly felt his hot breath against her pelvis. She craned her neck to look at him questioningly when she finally realized he was waiting to get her attention. 

“ _ Mine _ ,” he growled as his hands wrapped under her thighs, spreading them wider. His lips dragged along the soft mound of flesh, teasing and demanding at the same time.

She exhaled shakily before giving a subtle nod. “Yours.”

Cú’s lips tugged gently on the right, trailing surprisingly tender kisses along her inner thigh as he inhaled her scent deeply, a guttural purr vibrating against her skin. She hadn’t realized just how slick she’d become until his tongue ran sensually along her folds, barely teasing its way inside. 

And she didn’t need to guess if he enjoyed the taste of her, based on the way he murmured inaudibly against her. He slid his tongue deeper inside on the next pass, pausing to tease the now swollen, sensitive nub at the apex, chuckling at the way her hips bucked with surprise at the jolt of pleasure. 

His grip tightened around her thighs, attempting to keep her still as he laved his tongue around her clit in slow, torturous circles. But it didn’t help much, as she couldn’t help squirming under his skillful attention. Pleasure pooled and pulsed, building at such a lazy pace it had her whimpering with need, and her toes curled painfully tight. He was unusually quiet and focused while he alternately suckled and licked around the tender nubbin, eliciting a surprised yelp, followed by a wanton moan. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised at his sensual skills. After all, hadn’t he proven himself an exceptional kisser? Why wouldn’t that extend to everything else?

It didn’t take long before her noises became more frequent and guttural, her body beginning to clench and tense as an orgasm clawed its way to the forefront. How he could tell, she had no idea, but his tongue worked its way inside her slit greedily, urging her on. Her heels dug into the mattress roughly, her hands grabbed at the sheets desperately as a thick, intense wave of pleasure had her crying out softly. Her hips shuddered against his purring lips, his fingers kneading her thighs gently, giving her only enough time to ride the warm, throbbing pulses before he ran his tongue along her clit again. 

She yelped at the immediate attention, trying to squirm her hips away from him, still overly sensitive. But he wouldn’t be swayed. He snarled irritably, digging his fingers into her flesh warningly, though he did at least attempt to be more gentle. And while his earlier declarations came as a shock, it was obvious he’d been waiting weeks for this moment. 

And he would  _ not  _ be deprived. 

Eris whimpered, fisting the sheets and gasping for breath as he chased her pleasure yet again. Every teasing kiss along her folds. Every swipe along her increasingly slick entrance. Every torturous circle around her clit. Pulling her forcibly towards another orgasm. Claiming even her pleasure for himself. 

It didn’t make sense, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to even try. Her head was empty except for the constant stream of sensations. Her moans and mewls became as guttural and primal as his growls. Her body ran on nothing but basic, lust-filled instincts. Unable to resist as another climax began to build. 

He was so… focused. Attentive in a way she hadn’t expected. He adjusted the pressure of his tongue based on her squirming noises. Blew against her sensitive nubbin teasingly, and chuckled at the way she bucked weakly. Even though he seemed to be taking his time, it wasn’t long before her hips began to jerk and shudder again. 

He hummed against her flesh, trailing his fingers along her lower belly, and pressed firmly to try and keep her in place. And just as she silently questioned why, he wrapped his lips around her clit and suckled again, ever so gently. But it was more than enough to shove her over the edge. Her moan was loud, throaty and trembling all at once. Her muscles clenched and released in a frenzied staccato as pleasure spread from her pelvis to the rest of her extremities.

Eris whimpered as her body went limp against him. Everything was warm and fuzzy and jelly. She hummed softly when he finally pulled away, looming over her with a satisfied smirk. “Oh my god, that was…” she whispered breathlessly, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around his neck when he bent down for a deep, hungry kiss, tasting herself on his lips. “... just amazing.”

He purred contentedly, resting as much weight on her as he dared, and braced the rest on his forearms. “So sweet,” he murmured, sighing softly as he nuzzled her neck. 

She was grateful for the cuddling reprieve, scratching the back of his head and dropping kisses wherever she could. He wrapped his thick arms around her, kneading her back firmly with appreciative rumbles. 

But he wasn’t done. 

Nowhere near it. 

Eventually a hand drifted from her back down to her bum, kneading it firmly. “More,” he murmured in her ear, laughing huskily when she whined softly in response. “Yes.  _ More _ .” 

“Cú, I can’t, I’m--” she protested weakly, sucking in a breath when he brought them both to sitting, leaning against the wall with a small, predatory smile.

He hummed doubtfully at her words, eyes narrowed as he noted her flushed cheeks. Her kiss-swollen lips. Her mussy, just-fucked hair. After a long, thoughtful pause he shook his head, the hand that had been rubbing her bum sneakily sliding forward. 

“Cú, wait--” she began, interrupting her own words with a gasping moan when he insistently pushed two thick fingers inside her. “Oh my god…” 

Berserker chuckled smugly, a chesty thrum following as he sunk them as deep as he could, idly stroking the already swollen and sensitive passage. “So soft,” he murmured, his other hand wrapping around her back and pulling her in for a slow, sensual kiss. “All mine.”

She couldn’t manage anything but a throaty, squirming croon against his lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. “Cú, I can’t--” she whispered, moaning quietly at the way he managed to stretch and tease her at the same time. 

“Of course you can,” he said dismissively, gently pumping his fingers while dragging his nails up and down her back.

“No, I really don’t think so,” she laughed tiredly, her muscles clenching weakly around his fingers, dropping her head into the crook of his neck. “I’m not used to--”

“But you will,” he smirked, nibbling along her shoulder contentedly, his fingers continuing at a lazy, leisured pace.

She groaned and shook her head in protest, even as her hips rocked against his fingers unconsciously.

“I won’t stop until I’m buried inside you. Until I can feel your wet heat all around me. Until I’ve filled your belly with every drop of my seed,” he whispered huskily in her ear, curling his fingers inside her expertly, and pulling a loud, surprised moan from her. “ _ Then _ I’ll let you shower.”

“Oh my god,” she whimpered, and it was unclear if it was from his dirty, sensual promises, or the way he slowly pulled his fingers out. Only to push three back in, stretching her almost to the point of discomfort. Almost.

“All mine,” he sighed contentedly, humming as he closed his eyes. His fingers continued working at an insistent but gentle pace. Not wanting to push another orgasm quite yet, but taking his time to enjoy the feel of her. 

She moaned quietly in response, inhaling sharply when she felt his erection idly rubbing between them. Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she pulled back to look at him questioningly. Her fingers trailed from his neck down to his chest, finally hovering at his waist hesitantly.

Cú offered her a bare smile, leaning in to kiss her slowly and deeply. “Go on,” he murmured against her lips, continuing to stroke her inner walls gently. “I’m yours.”

Eris smiled at hearing that, the simple confirmation emboldening her to finally reach between them. Her fingers found purchase around his thick girth, lightly running up and down his shaft, mentally guessing at his full length. 

… oh god. Nope. NOPE. 

Her expression twisted from bashful curiosity to wide-eyed horror, making him groan and chuckle before nuzzling her neck. “We’ll fit,” he insisted again, rubbing her back soothingly and kissing her shoulder. “Your body will accommodate mine. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” she asked with a doubtful frown, hissing as his fingers began stretching her properly. 

“Eventually. Slowly.  _ Very  _ slowly,” he reassured her, laying her back down against the bed as he nibbled her jaw. “No pain.”

“Promise?” she whispered, uncertainty still hovering in her voice. 

“Promise,” he said with a soft kiss, roaming her face with a small smile. It was so warm and so earnest, it had her gasping in surprise. He’d always been such a blank statue, it was jarring to see. But it gave her butterflies every single time. He didn’t have to say it. She knew. This was a side of him only she would ever see. And in that moment, shivering when he pulled out his fingers and stared at her with such deep warmth, she realized. 

She was right all along. He didn’t just share a name or a face with the others. 

He  _ was  _ Cú. 

Something clicked in her mind at that moment, and she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him hungrily. He growled with approval, pressing his body to hers as he kissed her back with equal fervour, grinding his hips teasingly. 

She wrapped her legs around him as firmly as she could, moaning against his lips as she finally let go. The last shred of doubt flying with the wind. But when she began rocking her hips as well, he rumbled and pulled away, just enough to run his thumb along her jaw and look at her soberly. 

“Just relax, little one,” he instructed huskily, dropping another kiss on her lips before discreetly adjusting himself and she felt the tip of his cock press against her half-soaked slit. “It will be easier on both of us.”

Eris nodded with a shaky exhale, though she had no idea how she was supposed to relax. Especially when she felt her entrance stretch in a way it never had before. He grunted quietly while she gasped, insistently pushing until the head of his cock was enveloped inside her. He growled with a blend of approval and frustration, eyes steady on her while he forced himself to remain still. Watching her every move, every breath until her features relaxed. And when she nodded subtly, he continued a little more. Then paused, and repeated. Inch by impossible inch. 

She had no words to describe how it felt. It was unlike anything else she’d ever experienced. She hadn’t really believed him when he said her body would accommodate his. But somehow, it was. She felt full to bursting, unable to even properly clench around him. But even as slowly as he moved deeper inside her, he was hitting every pleasurable spot she didn’t know she had. And eventually, she was pressing her heels into his thighs, wanting more of him. By the time he finally buried himself to the hilt with a lusty, contented groan, she was already mewling needily. Right on the edge of another climax. 

It was all he needed to hear as he began rocking his hips against hers at a firm pace, hungry to feel the full force of her orgasm around him. He didn’t have to wait long, growling with approval when her nails dug into his back and she cried out, shocked by the intensity of it. One thick ripple of pleasure after another had her shuddering, her muscles alternately clenching and releasing as she tried to ride it out. She thought it couldn’t get better than his mouth. She thought her previous orgasms were the best she ever had. 

She was wrong.  _ So  _ wrong.

But Cú had only just begun. Her cries of pleasure spurred him straight back into blind hunger, now that she was ready. 

Well. 

‘Ready’. 

There was no preparing for the sudden switch to thrusts in long, steady strokes. How he pulled out almost completely before burying himself as deeply as he could. Deeper than she ever thought was possible. Every single movement forcing guttural moans as her already sensitive core was teased again and again. Every noise, shudder and shiver from her pushing him further and further over the edge. 

It was almost animalistic as his pace became more and more urgent, his breathing coming in heavy, panting growls. He bit her neck roughly, hard enough to break skin but she barely noticed as another climax spilled out of her with a long, loud groan. But he wouldn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t give her a breather. Chased both their pleasure with a feral instinct, his fingers tangled in her hair as she found herself beginning to cry out with every thrust. It was too much. Too much and not enough. 

Her mind was in a pleasure-drenched hazy blur, losing count of how many times she came. Where one climax ended and another began. No idea how long they’d been there for, or when he’d finally reach his own peak. If he ever would. Somehow he had her exhausted and voraciously hungry at the same time, in a way she’d never been. In a way she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of. 

But finally, just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, when her body was in full sensory overload and everything felt electric almost to discomfort, she felt something completely foreign. The base of his cock began to swell, stretching her out further while his thrusts became shallow, forcing himself deep inside her. 

“Cú, what’s--” she began, yelping in both surprise and pain when he growled loudly and sunk his razor sharp teeth in her neck. Almost immediately after he came with a long, loud groan, his hips jerking against hers as she felt one warm burst after another spill inside her. It was enough to force a last series of pleasurable flutters through her. 

But even when he pulled back with a gasp, licking her wounds carefully and tenderly, she realized he was still coming. 

“What the hell,” she gasped, confused at the blend of pain and pleasure, along with a new and disorienting feel of fullness. “Oh my god…” 

He only responded with a series of guttural moans, kissing and nibbling around the large, fresh punctures. Then finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed contentedly, lifting her back up to sitting while he slumped against the wall. 

He ran his hands up and down her back idly, a low purr vibrating his chest as she finally caught her breath. Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, thoroughly exhausted as she wrapped her arms loosely around him and nestled against him. A comfortable, sated silence fell between them, and she almost fell asleep right then and there. Until he licked her bite again, forcing her eyes open with a soft hiss. 

“You really got me, huh?” she mumbled with a disapproving curl of her nose, confused when at the rumbling chuckle it elicited.

“That was the point,” he said dryly, kissing the wounds gently over and over as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Now  _ everyone  _ will know you’re mine.”

Eris groaned and shook her head, not sure how she felt about that. Logic weakly tried to make its re-entry when she realized how fast and how far he’d taken them. Yesterday, she wasn’t sure he liked her. Today, she was pretty sure he’d claimed her like some kind of primal mate. Holy shit. She suddenly realized what Lancer had meant by Berserker making the decision for her. 

Because he’d already made up his mind long before he finally approached her. How long ago, she couldn’t say. But far longer than she initially guessed. 

She shivered and sighed as he continued to kiss and clean her wound with a shocking amount of tender care. She smiled and pressed several kisses along his neck before attempting to carefully separate them. And then two things happened simultaneously that sent a jolt of surprise through her. 

Firstly, Cú snarled and wrapped a hand around her backside, refusing to be separated from her. Secondly, she  _ couldn’t  _ get off him. She’d moved and nothing budged, even before he kept their hips pressed together. Like they  _ were  _ actually superglued together. 

… wait, what?

“Cú... I can’t move. Why can’t I move?” she asked carefully, sighing at the way he incoherently grumbled, nuzzling her neck and running his hands anywhere he could reach. So she gave it another minute, idly stroking his waist before trying to move again.

Nothing, except for another angry growl from Berserker, wrapping his arms around her possessively, refusing to let her try again. “Stop,” he hissed with disapproval, muttering irritably as he nuzzled her neck, trying to completely envelop her in him. “It’s not time.”

“Not time? What do you mean?” she asked quizzically, groaning at his annoyed  _ tch _ . As though the answer was perfectly obvious. Which it  _ wasn’t _ . 

“You have to wait,” he finally huffed, swinging his legs over the bed as he got to his feet and carried her to the bathroom. 

“For what?” she pressed, poking his chest with a helpless shrug. “Words would be good right now. Use them.”

Cú rolled his eyes and muttered with annoyance, even as he nuzzled her neck and opened the shower door. “For my knot.” 

“Your what?”

“Knot.” 

“Knot.” 

“Yes. Knot.” 

“... what the hell is a knot?” she exclaimed with a laugh, quickly stopping herself at his pensive frown. 

He opened his mouth to say something, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature, but closed it again after several seconds. “... ask the doctor.”

“I don’t want to ask Roman. I want to ask  _ you _ . The person  _ with _ the knot. What is a knot??” she repeated with amused frustration, wiping her face as the water began to spray on them both. 

He frowned again slightly, his eyes distant as he struggled to find the words. “... it’s inside you. Keeps us together. For a while.” 

“A while?” she sighed, tilting her head and trying to catch his gaze. “How long is a while?” 

He shrugged indifferently, smoothing her damp hair off her shoulders as he kissed her bite marks. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be inside you all night anyway. Probably tomorrow too. Maybe the day after that. We’ll see.” 

Eris laughed in disbelief, scoffing when his face returned to its usual stoic blank expression. “... you’re not serious. We don’t have the time to spare, even  _ if  _ I was willing. Which, how could I be? I’m still not sure I survived  _ this _ round. I definitely couldn’t take two more days of this.”

Cú snorted smugly, patting her bum with a mild smirk. “You will.”

“No, I really think I won’t,” she argued with a laugh, a sinking feeling growing in her belly at the stubborn glint in his eyes. “Cú, we  _ can’t _ —“

“We stay here until I’m finished, or you risk me taking you out there. Maybe in the field. Maybe in front of everyone. It won’t make a difference if my instincts take over,” he warned huskily, a bare and predatory smile curling his lips. 

She frowned thoughtfully, still not understanding what was happening. “... what if I didn’t bring you with me for a few days?”

He snorted derisively, his arms tightening around her. “No. I won’t be without you. Not yet.”

“Cú, I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m just trying to understand,” she said wearily, nuzzling his neck until his shoulders loosened up. 

“Ask the doctor,” he huffed, unable to explain it properly and irritable after trying and failing to. “About knots.”

She made a doubtful noise, awkwardly trying to reach for her loofah and body wash. “... alright. Never heard of it before.”

“You wouldn’t, it’s… hm. A side effect from Medb’s wish. Or part of it. I don’t know,” he shrugged self-consciously, helping her squeeze body wash before adjusting the water. 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Honest. It’s… this is kinda nice, isn’t it?” she smiled, running the loofah along his shoulder. 

“It  _ is _ ,” he rumbled in agreement, shifting his hip slightly to remind her of his presence inside her, eliciting a mewling gasp. 

She met his smirk with a small one of her own, pushing his chest playfully and humming when he leaned in for a slow, deep kiss. “Mm, mine,” she murmured, clasping the side of his neck before kissing him again. 

A throaty purr vibrated against her lips as he swept his hand up and down her back. 

“...  _ yes _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (3/5/21) Took the month to work on another writing project and recharge, but here we are. Finally into some proper smutty territory. 
> 
> Who's surprised it started with Berserker Cú? 
> 
> Nah, me neither XD
> 
> Hope you've all been doing well, and enjoy!


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